


Bitten by Love

by Alisanne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-11
Updated: 2009-01-11
Packaged: 2018-02-09 04:44:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1969527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/pseuds/Alisanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Neville escapes the creatures who captured him, he needs a Hero, a Curse-Breaker, and a Potions master to help free him from a deadly curse. But when he discovers it has unexpectedly positive side effects, will he want it lifted?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bitten by Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [unbroken_halo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unbroken_halo/gifts).



> **Warnings:** AU, EWE, mild angst.  
>  **Author's notes:** Heartfelt thanks to my beta readers, Eeyore9990 and Sevfan.

~

Bitten by Love

~

His neck was killing him. Neville clutched it as he ran, the warm blood seeping onto his fingers making him bite his lip and run faster. The creatures had excellent, enhanced senses, but the way he was stumbling, they could probably hear him lumbering about the forest even without relying on them. 

Some instinct made him veer to the left and it was just in time, since a hot blast of a curse hit the spot he would have been in had he continued his trajectory. Someone was screaming behind him, perhaps one of the other unfortunate souls that had been captured in Hogsmeade with him? He hadn’t seen any of his fellow captives for a few days, kept as he had been on his own in a tiny cell. 

As he ran, Neville tried to look around, but it was night and there were no distinguishing landmarks. He wasn’t sure where he was. They had been moved after their capture, of that he was certain; although, given the panic the vampire attack had engendered in the town, someone had to be looking for all of them. Surely the Ministry had been notified.

Something rustled in the trees above him, and Neville swallowed convulsively, slowing slightly as he tried to keep an eye on the space above him as well as behind him and in front of him. It wouldn’t do to circle around and run into his captors.

_Oh fuck! Can vampires fly?_ For the life of him, Neville could not remember. Lockhart had been their Dark Arts professor the year they should have learned about them, and that had been a supreme cock-up. Hermione would’ve known the answer, but of course she was no where to be found at the moment...

His vision swam and Neville gasped. He had no idea how much of his blood they had taken. He’d heard distant screaming every night and had imagined that the others had been going through the same, but for all he’d been bled every night, he’d woken up every morning. Weaker, yes, but alive. 

And only one vampire had ever bit him. It’d called itself Eduardo and had told Neville that it liked him enough to turn him. That had been when Neville’d decided to try to escape. The idea that he could be made into a ravening creature, subsisting on other people’s blood, had been unacceptable.

Apparently someone else had tried something that night as well, and noting his guards’ distraction, Neville had knocked one out with his shoe while the other had been busy in another cell. The idiots had left his cell open, so he’d run. He’d considered wandlessly Apparating, but had been unwilling to risk it. 

It’d been a good thing, too, since he’d felt himself breach the Anti-Apparation wards on his escape. But he was weakening now. If he stopped to try to Apparate he’d only be able to give it one concentrated try, perhaps two, before he’d be recaptured. And this time he doubted Edwardo would be as nice. 

Panting heavily, Neville collapsed against a tree trunk and pulled his sticky hand away from his neck. Closing his eyes, he concentrated hard, stifling a frustrated scream when he didn’t budge. He could hear his pursuers coming through the trees and, gritting his teeth, Neville thought back to the DA, to Harry’s hand clasping his shoulder, to that first time he’d conjured his Patronus. _I can do this. I must._

Neville bit his lips hard enough to draw blood as he concentrated. Then he felt it, the gathering of his magic, that feeling he always got before his body was stretched and he was transported. Digging deep, he poured everything he had into it, and just as flickering torches approached, Neville disappeared with a crack.

~

With a sigh, Harry sat back from the desk and rubbed his eyes. There had been no breaks in the case, and he couldn’t help but feel that time was running out for Neville and the other citizens of Hogsmeade that had disappeared three nights before. 

Swallowing a curse, Harry again scanned the parchment that contained the statements of the few eyewitnesses that hadn’t been kidnapped in the raid. Every one of them had seen dark-cloaked men Apparate into the centre of the street and begin cursing random people. By all accounts Neville had immediately started organizing the townsfolk, all the while firing back with his own wand. The wand that one of the attackers had managed to take from him before capture. It had been cast away and, fortunately, had been found by the Auror cleanup squad hours later, when someone had finally sent for help. 

Harry had easily identified it as Neville’s. Glancing at the wand he’d laid on the desk three days before, Harry sighed. Without his wand Neville was powerless, and as time went on Harry got more and more concerned about his friend’s fate. 

No one knew why the attack had happened. The attackers had left as unexpectedly as they had arrived, carrying at least twelve wizards and witches with them, including Neville. 

No ransom demands had been received; in fact there had been no word at all, and somehow that made Harry even more worried. He’d ruled out werewolves as they were not subtle in their attacks. The Hogsmeade villagers would have seen a pack of rampaging man-sized wolves. The more he looked into it, the more it sounded like vampires. 

After Voldemort’s death, the Ministry had tried to crack down on Dark creatures. Most werewolves willingly took Wolfsbane, but there was no equivalent potion for vampires. They needed blood, human blood, and there were no substitutes. And the creatures had no qualms about how they got it. But if they were responsible for this attack, then it meant they were organizing, perhaps growing their numbers, and it meant even more problems for the Ministry and the wizarding world. 

Yet again Harry wondered why he’d thought being appointed the lead Auror for the new Special Creatures Division had been a promotion.

Kreacher’s pop startled him. “Master is wanting tea?”

Harry sighed. Perhaps it was time that he took a break. “Sure, Kreacher,” he said. “Tea and maybe some biscuits in the sitting room.” 

Kreacher popped away, and Harry stood up and walked over to the window, where he looked out onto the deserted London street that went by Grimmauld Place. As he pondered what else he could do to find Neville, Harry leaned on his hand, staring into the street light blankly as the facts of the case ran through his mind. 

The street light flickered briefly and he blinked, standing up straight. A loud crack made Harry’s eyes narrow. In the street he could now see a huddled figure that hadn’t been there a moment ago, and before he could react, the light caught the face of the person. Harry gasped.

It was Neville and he looked hurt. He was stooped over as if he’d been beaten, and was that blood on his neck?

“Fuck!”

Harry ran down the hallway to the door, wrenching it open in time to see Neville stumble to his feet. His clothes were torn and bloody and the wound on his neck looked even worse up close. “Neville?”

“Harry? Is it really you--?” 

Neville could barely talk, and Harry rushed to him, pulling his arm over his shoulders. “God, Nev, what happened? We’ve been searching everywhere for you.”

A slight smile curved Neville’s lips. “Knew it,” he rasped, leaning heavily on Harry as they staggered into the house. “Knew you’d be...looking for me.”

“Kreacher!”

“Master?” The elf popped up in front of them.

“Floo Hermione immediately and tell her I need her! It’s an emergency!” 

As the elf disappeared without question, Harry struggled to get Neville over to the settee and help him lie down. “Where’ve you been?” he asked. 

Neville struggled to reply. “Not sure,” he whispered, talking clearly an effort. “Was remote. Dark. There were woods.”

Harry nodded. “You Apparated here blindly?”

“Yes,” Neville managed. 

Harry whistled, impressed. “Wow. Did you have the coordinates on you? It’s Unplottable.”

Neville swallowed convulsively. “Just wished...really hard...to find you,” he gasped. “Magic...brought me here.”

“Thank goodness. Would you recognize your captors again?” Harry asked. 

Neville nodded emphatically. 

“Great,” Harry said. “Well, first things first. Let’s get you sorted.” 

Harry eyed the still oozing wound on Neville’s neck, and as he reached to press his fingers against it to try to staunch the flow of blood, Neville shifted away. “Don’t,” he whispered. “Not safe.”

A voice came from the fireplace. “Harry?” Hermione sounded worried. “Kreacher called...”

“Thank God you’re in,” Harry called back. “We need your help. Neville’s here. I think he’s hurt. Come, please?”

“You found him?” Now Hermione sounded relieved. 

Harry shook his head before he realised she likely couldn’t see him. “Not really. He found me. Not sure how, actually. He just appeared in front of the house.”

“I’m coming through,” Hermione said crisply. 

A moment later the fire flared green and Hermione, carrying her medical bag, stepped into the room, brushing soot off. She hurried to the settee and leaned over, sharp eyes taking in Neville’s condition. She, too, reached for his neck, but Neville shifted away. 

“I have to look,” she said softly. 

Neville shook his head. “Too...dangerous,” he protested.

“I’m a Healer, Neville, I can handle it,” Hermione murmured, gently yet insistently moving his head to the side. She inspected his neck, pursing her lips at what she saw. “First I need to get this cleaned up so I can get a good look at it,” she proclaimed, reaching for her wand.

Harry watched as Hermione sterilized the skin and prodded at it. All through Hermione’s examination, Neville was biting his lip as if he were in pain. “You can hold onto me if you need to,” Harry finally said, clasping Neville’s hand in his. 

Neville sent a grateful look his way and squeezed Harry’s hand hard. 

“I have to try to stop this bleeding,” Hermione muttered as if to herself, and as she cast a charm, Neville clenched Harry’s hand so hard that Harry blanched. He stayed silent, however, having learned early on not to disturb Hermione in Healer mode. 

Over her shoulder he could see the skin of Neville’s neck trying to knit together, but it was clearly fighting her. As soon as one area closed another opened and starting bleeding afresh. 

Cursing under her breath, Hermione finally cast another spell and sat back. “It won’t let me heal it,” she said. “It’s a creature bite, isn’t it?”

Neville nodded. “Vamp...vampire,” he managed. 

Hermione sighed. “This is beyond basic healing, I’m afraid. Did it bite you more than once?”

“Twice,” Neville whispered. “Tonight would’ve been the third...except for...escaped.”

“Fortunate for you,” Hermione said, sitting back. “I cast a Stasis Spell on it and that will likely hold for a little while, but I don’t know for how long.”

“What will happen if it doesn’t?” Harry asked, still holding Neville’s hand. 

Hermione bit her lip. “The vampire was trying to turn Neville. If it had bitten him a third time, there would have been nothing we could have done. But I’ve never had to treat someone who escaped after two bites. Did you drink any of its blood?”

Neville shook his head. 

She exhaled. “That’s at least something. That means it shouldn’t be able to easily track you.” After rummaging through her bag, she pulled out several potion vials and handed them to Harry. “He needs to take one of those about every six hours. They’re Restorative Draughts and Blood-Replenishing Potions. The next day or so will tell us what’s going to happen.”

“Can he stay here?” Harry asked, tucking the vials into his robes. 

“That would be my recommendation,” Hermione said, getting to her feet. “St. Mungo’s reports all human/vampire contact to the Ministry, and more often than not the victims are hauled off to the Ministry before they can be adequately treated.” 

“Am I...dangerous?” Neville choked out. 

Hermione sighed. “I honestly don’t think so,” she said. “And really, if you are, no one will be safer than Harry. As an Auror, he can protect himself.”

“But...” Neville looked alarmed, and Harry shook his head. 

“It’ll be fine. You’re staying here. I have plenty of rooms, and this way Hermione can check on you regularly, right, Hermione?”

She nodded. “Exactly. Let’s see how you feel in the morning. Take this Sleeping Draught and get some rest now.” She held out a vial.

Neville looked over at Harry. “Others...still trapped,” he said. “Have to try to help rescue.”

Harry smiled. “Of course. Tell me what you can remember, and I’ll notify one of the Auror teams to check it out. I won’t have to tell them where I got the tips, only that I did.”

“I think it was near--” Neville’s mouth moved but no sound came out. His eyes widened and he cleared his throat to try again. Still nothing. Hermione’s eyes narrowed. 

“Try again,” she instructed, this time waving her wand over his throat. 

This time Neville appeared to be choking as he tried to talk, and Hermione finally told him to stop. “They put some sort of a Secrecy Curse on you,” she said gravely. “You won’t be able to say anything about where you were held.” She looked up at Harry. “You could try Legilimency.”

Harry leaned forward. “May I?” he asked.

Neville nodded.

Staring into Neville’s eyes, Harry struggled to pierce his mind, but after only a few seconds he broke it off. “Fuck,” he swore. “Something’s blocking me.”

Hermione sighed. “Likely the same curse. The creature probably thought of that and discovered a way to Occlude any relevant memories.”

“Bloody hell,” Harry muttered.

“Sorry,” Neville mouthed. 

Harry waved his hand. “Not your fault,” he said. “You relax; we’ll figure another way to track these creatures.”

Hermione patted Neville’s arm and put away her wand once more. “I know it’s frustrating, but the best thing you can do now is sleep,” she said, holding out the vial of Sleeping Draught.

Neville protested weakly but finally acquiesced, swallowing the potion. A moment later his eyes were closed and he was breathing deeply, apparently asleep.

Harry summoned Kreacher once more and instructed him to put Neville in the room just down the hall from his own. Kreacher nodded and, with a pop, both he and Neville vanished. 

Once Neville was gone, Harry turned to Hermione. “I’ll eventually have to tell _someone_ he’s back,” he said. “And they’ll want to talk to him. He’s pretty much our only witness to the events in Hogsmeade. Plus, there may be more victims we can rescue, once we break that curse.”

Hermione shook her head. “The only foolproof way for a victim of a vampire to break the curse is to kill it, as you know. And that works best if the victim himself does it.” 

“Yes, I’m aware,” Harry sighed. “He’s not strong enough to go after it now, clearly. There has to be some way to protect him from it in the meantime.” 

“I’ll do my best.” Hermione patted his arm. “I just gave him a very strong Sleeping Draught,” she said. “You’ll have to wait until morning before attempting to question him again, plus, there’s no way to get the information anyway, unless...” She paused as if pondering the options.

“Yes?” Harry leaned forward. 

“You need a Curse-Breaker,” she said. “Bill’s at the Burrow right now.”

“He is? I thought--”

She nodded. “He’s been laying low ever since Fleur’s death, but I know he’s there for the next few weeks. Charlie mentioned it a couple of days ago. He’s a bit worried about him, actually.”

“Worried? Why?”

“Charlie thinks Bill needs something useful to do with himself. He’s been practically a recluse since Fleur died, and it’s been over four years now.”

“Yeah...” Harry shook his head. “Horrid thing, that was.” He raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re talking to Charlie? Are you two on again?”

Hermione blushed. “No comment,” she said, looking away. “Anyway, back to the current issue, which is breaking the curse on Neville. I would ask Bill for his opinion.” She paused, then said, “In fact, it could help both Neville and Bill. I think Bill needs a purpose.”

Harry nodded “Good idea. I’ll Floo now.” He eyed her speculatively. “And then we talk about you and Charlie.”

~

As it happened, Bill was the only one at the Burrow that night, and when Harry Flooed, he was in the middle of reading Mallory’s treatise on ancient Peruvian curses. He almost dropped the book when the Floo sounded.

“Yes?” he said, leaning down, surprised to see Harry’s face in the fireplace. “Oh, hey, Harry. What can I do for you? Ron’s not here, nor is Ginny.”

Harry smiled. “Wasn’t looking for Ron, actually,” he said. “And definitely not Ginny. I’m calling for you.”

Bill nodded. “All right,” he said, “but I’m too old for this kneeling shit. Come on through and we’ll have a cuppa and chat. The family is gone to help with the rebuilding.” 

“And you didn’t go with them?” 

Shrugging, Bill sat back on his heels. “Ministry decree. They don’t want me doing anything in public this close to the full moon,” he said. “You should be safe, though, if you’re worried.”

Harry flushed. “Wasn’t concerned about that, actually,” he said, and Bill, sensing he was telling the truth, relaxed. 

When Harry came through, Bill could feel the tension rolling off him in waves. “Maybe we need something stronger then tea,” he murmured, walking over to the liquor cabinet and pouring some sherry into a glass. 

Harry exhaled and accepted the drink without hesitation, knocking it back in one gulp. 

“Another?” Bill offered. 

Harry shook his head. “Haven’t eaten,” he said. “Any more of that and I’ll be too drunk to talk to you about what I need to.”

Bill sipped his sherry, interest piqued. He’d forgotten how good it was to talk to someone who wasn’t a member of his family, someone who he couldn’t just read like a book. “All right. Let’s talk in the kitchen. Mum left enough food for an army; you may as well help me finish some of it.”

As he warmed up the food, Bill realised he was hungry, too, and they made some inroads into Molly’s roast beef, new potatoes and green beans that she’d left all ready to be warmed up. Both men ate silently by mutual, if unspoken, agreement, and afterwards Bill set a dish of apple crumble in front of Harry without even asking if he wanted it. 

Harry grinned. “I really shouldn’t,” he said, patting his tummy, “but your mum’s cooking is hard to resist. Elves are all well and good, but there’s just something about human cooking--”

Bill nodded. “I know what you mean,” he chuckled. “In Egypt we always looked forward to the one night a month when we’d all get together and cook rather than having the elves cook for us.” He smiled. “Anyway, let me put the kettle on and we can take our pudding out to the back porch. It’s a nice night.”

Nodding his agreement, Harry helped levitate the cups and dishes outside once everything was ready. They settled on the porch, and after a sip of his tea, Bill asked, “So, what was it that you wanted to talk about?”

With a sigh, Harry explained Neville’s situation, concluding with, “So, what I need to know is if you’re familiar with such a curse?”

Bill, intrigued, had set his cooling tea to the side and had turned to face Harry. “So he actually started to say something but then he couldn’t speak?”

Harry nodded. 

“Yet he was able to tell you that he had some information,” Bill said, tapping his bottom lip. 

“Yes.”

“Usually a Secrecy Curse will make the person be unable to even hint at the thing that they are being prevented from saying. They can’t write it, sometimes they can’t even _think_ it in case a skilled Legilimens could pluck it from their mind.”

“So this isn’t a Secrecy Curse?” 

Bill was pacing. “Actually, it is, it’s just not your typical Secrecy Curse. It almost sounds more like a form of hypnosis than a curse. This vampire -- that is what you think attacked him, right?” Harry nodded and Bill continued, “--it placed a strong suggestion on him, but in a fairly sloppy fashion. The bites make me more concerned. He was bitten twice, he said?”

“That’s what he said,” Harry replied, taking a bite of his pudding. “Hermione said that was good, though. Isn’t it?” 

“It is. It means he’s not been fully enthralled yet. It also means that he’s linked to the vampire, though, which is likely why he can’t speak in detail about where he was held. The fact he can hint at information, however, means he’s got a strong spirit, and he’ll probably be able to fight the compulsion and eventually break it.”

“That’s great!” Harry said. “So all he has to do is keep trying?”

Bill nodded. “Yes. And you said Hermione is convinced that since he didn’t consume any of the vampire’s blood he should be okay?”

“That’s correct.”

“Then what you need is a Potions master.”

Harry blinked. “Why?”

“You still need to break the vampire bond,” Bill said. “Otherwise, the creature will retain its hold on him. Trust me when I say that is not good.”

“Was that what happened to--?” Harry visibly hesitated and Bill took pity on him.

“What happened to Fleur?” Bill nodded. He took a deep breath. “Yes. She’d been taken and only bitten twice, so we thought she’d be okay, only the creature could still call to her and it did.” He swallowed heavily. “By the time I realised she was gone, it was too late. We found her body a day later dashed against the rocks in front of Shell Cottage. She’d clearly fought and the creature killed her in the worst way possible--”

“I’m so sorry,” Harry whispered. 

“It was a long time ago. I only wish I could have tracked down the creature...” His voice cracked and, embarrassed, Bill stood up. “Are you done with your tea and pudding?” he asked. 

Harry nodded and followed after Bill carrying his dishes. They washed up in silence. Oddly enough, talking about Fleur with someone other than his family had actually felt good. He sighed. It really was time he moved on, used what had happened to her to benefit others. Suddenly, he blinked as something occurred to him. “Wait, who’s watching Neville now?” 

“Don’t worry. I told Kreacher to keep an eye on him, so he’s not going anywhere,” Harry said. “Plus, Hermione gave him a Sleeping Draught. He’ll be out until tomorrow.”

Bill shook his head. “That may not be enough,” he said. “Those creatures can call victims out of a deep sleep. It may even be able to make him come to it while unconscious.”

“Oh fuck,” Harry whispered. “I’d better--”

Bill was already sprinting towards the Floo. “We’ll both go,” he said, grabbing the Floo powder container from the mantle. “You may need me.”

~

Harry stumbled out of the Floo and immediately ran towards the screaming. Bill had gone through the fireplace ahead of him, and Harry could hear Kreacher’s squeals mingling with what sounded like Neville, only not. 

The sight that greeted him was a mess. The bed Neville had been placed in had been reduced to kindling, by what means Harry had no idea, although from the abrasions on Neville’s hands he had a small clue. 

Neville, eyes open yet blank, was facing the door, his hands out in front of him like claws, and Kreacher was crouched in the corner, shivering.

Bill had his wand out and was chanting something low and soothing, and as Harry watched, Neville’s stance relaxed and he swayed for a moment. Bill levitated him before he hit the ground and turned to face Harry. “Got another bed you won’t mind having destroyed?” he asked. 

Harry sighed. “Come this way,” he said, leading Bill towards another of his many spare rooms.

Neville seemed unaware of his surroundings as he was settled into his new bed. Bill waved his wand once more and a silver-coloured shield settled into place around him before disappearing from view. 

“What was that?” Harry asked. “It almost looked like an Anti-Apparation Shield, only not.” 

Bill smiled. “It’s a similar concept. You could call it a localized Anti-Apparation Shield. We’re had to use it on artefacts that we’ve found that are set to auto-Apparate on a dig.”

“Auto-Apparate?”

“Yes. Some artefacts like to remain hidden, tricky buggers.” Bill smiled. “This will make it impossible for Neville to unconsciously Apparate to the creature; in fact, he won’t be going anywhere. And before you ask, yes, unconscious Apparation is possible. I think that’s how Fleur was recaptured.”

Harry scrubbed his hand through his hair. “So breaking the Secrecy Curse is one thing, but breaking the vampire’s bond is another. Shit, where am I going to find a Potions master?”

“Slughorn?” Bill suggested. 

“He was injured a few weeks back and is still recovering at St. Mungo’s.”

“Well, your choices are limited,” Bill said. “Potions masters are scarce these days. Snape could probably have whipped this up in his sleep, but since he’s dead, that’s out of the question. Shame you don’t have a way of communicating with him.” 

“Yeah...” Harry paused, thoughtful. “Um, if I could contact Snape and get the formula, could you make it?”

Bill raised an eyebrow. “Sure. But I he’s dead. Didn’t you see him die in that Shack?”

“I did, but I may still have a way to talk to him.” Harry waved off Bill’s next question. “I can’t say how, but let’s just say that I should know pretty soon if it’ll work. Would you be willing to stay and watch Neville while I--?”

“Of course.” Bill Summoned a chair from the corner and settled it next to the bed where Neville was still resting. “But I expect an explanation when you get back. If you have some sort of artefact that can contact the dead, then I want to know about it.” He shrugged at Harry’s startled look. “I can’t help it. I’m a Curse-Breaker. It’s what we do.”

Harry grinned. “Of course.” He patted Bill’s shoulder. “Thanks for doing this. Neville may not be able to say it right now, but I know he’d be appreciative.” Taking the potion vials Hermione had left him out of his robes, he handed them to Bill. “He needs to take one of these every six hours.”

Bill flushed slightly. “I’m not sure he’ll like having an almost werewolf looking after him,” he said, accepting the containers.

Harry snorted. “You’re not an ‘almost werewolf’,” he said. “You’re a good friend and a skilled wizard, and I’m just glad you were home when I called.”

“It’s good to feel useful, actually,” Bill murmured, looking at Neville. “Thank _you_.”

Just then, Neville moaned and Bill leaned forward. He patted Neville’s hand and whispered, “Relax, you’re safe here.”

Neville seemed to hear and understand because the lines of tension on his face smoothed out and his breathing got easier. Harry pursed his lips as his eyes went back and forth between Bill and Neville. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said. 

“Fine,” Bill murmured, apparently too busy staring at Neville to look up at Harry.

Harry smiled, and as he closed the door to the room he wondered if perhaps Neville wasn’t exactly what Bill needed. Someone to look after. Maybe _something_ good would come out of this. 

Whistling, he walked down the hall, pondering how he could locate a Potions master.

~

His neck was still killing him. Neville groaned and tried to sit up, only to find that something was holding him down. “Wha--?”

“Just relax,” a vaguely familiar voice said. “Let me remove the charm and then you can move about freely.”

A moment later Neville could shift, and he groaned as his aching muscles protested. He sat up with difficulty, his eyes finally focussing enough to see where he was and who was with him. A scarred face topped with red hair came into view. Bill Weasley? Was he at the Burrow? Neville blinked. “Where--?”

“You’re still at Harry’s place,” Bill said. “Do you remember anything about last night?”

Neville swallowed. “Some,” he whispered, his throat too dry to make much noise. 

“Oh, here, you need to take this.”

A vial was pressed into his hand and Neville looked down at it. It looked familiar... He then remembered that Hermione had left similar looking vials with Harry the night before. He opened it and drank, sighing as the restorative properties raced through him. 

“One more,” Bill said, pressing what looked like a Blood-Replenishing Potion into his hands. He smiled as Neville consumed it. “Feeling better?”

Neville nodded and sat up straight. 

“Good,” Bill said. “Kreacher brought enough breakfast for the two of us. Hungry?” 

Neville smiled. “I am, actually,” he said, accepting a dish with some toast and jam. He made short work of the toast and even managed some eggs and a bit of sausage before he began to feel full. “Sorry,” he apologized, mouth full. “There wasn’t a lot of food where I was,” he said, swallowing the last of his toast and washing it down with tea.

Bill smiled. “Yeah, I bet there wasn’t.” 

As Neville watched Bill eat for a while, he wondered at this almost overwhelming urge he had to touch Bill. Yes, he’d had a crush on Bill for a while now, but this seemed more intense somehow. Was it part of the vampire’s influence? When his eyes started to linger on Bill’s lips that were wet with tea and butter, Neville decided it was time to distract himself. “So, um, when did you get here?” he asked, his voice now stronger.

“Last night. Harry came to talk to me about the curse on you.”

“Can you lift it?” Neville asked hopefully. “I really need to be able to tell Harry how to find where the vampires were keeping us.”

Bill shook his head. “I don’t believe I can, but I suspect you can fight it,” he said. “I have some techniques we can try later, when you’re stronger.”

“Why not now?” 

“Impatient, hm?” Bill said. “Just like last night.”

“Last night?” Neville frowned. “What happened last night?” 

“I guess you don’t remember trying to leave?”

“Leave?” Neville shook his head. “Why would I--?”

“I suspect the vampire was trying to call you back.” 

Neville’s eyes widened. “It can do that?”

“Yes.” Bill sat back, his eyes unreadable. “I suspect the only thing that saved you was the fact that this place is Unplottable. It took time to overcome your natural inhibitions so that you’d try to walk outside to return to the creature. Luckily, Harry and I arrived just in time.”

“Did I...did I hurt anyone?” Neville felt sick at the thought that he might have injured someone, albeit unintentionally.

“No.” Bill crossed his arms. “You did take out some furniture, though.”

“I what?”

Bill smiled and Banished the breakfast tray. “Do you think you can stand up?” 

Neville nodded. “I hope so,” he said. “I need to visit the loo.”

“Right. On our way back from there I’ve something to show you.”

The trip to the bathroom was slow, and Neville was out of breath by they time they arrived. “Yell if you need help in there,” Bill murmured, a smile playing about his lips. 

Neville choked. Was Bill flirting? No, he couldn’t be. This was some sort of vampire effect and he had to fight it. “I think I’ll be all right, thanks,” he managed, feeling as if his face was flaming. It probably was. 

Bill nodded, and before Neville closed the door in his face he wondered if he’d imagined the twinkle in Bill’s eye.

Using the loo was a slow process but when he’d finished and washed his hands, Neville opened the door and smiled at Bill, feeling better. “What did you want to show me?” he asked. 

Bill held out his arm in an oddly courtly gesture. “You up for a bit of a walk?” he asked. 

Neville nodded. “As long as it doesn’t involve stairs I should be all right,” he said. 

“No stairs,” Bill promised. “It’s just around the corner.”

They arrived at a door, Neville presumed it would be yet another bedroom, yet when Bill pushed open the door, Neville gasped. “What happened?” he asked, taking in the utterly destroyed furniture. He thought he could make out legs, some drawers, and perhaps a bit of a headboard... “Was this a bed?”

“I think it was an entire set of bedroom furniture,” Bill said. “At least I assume it was. I didn’t see it before you got hold of it.”

“I did this?”

Bill was still holding him up, and in a distant part of his mind Neville was grateful for the support, not really sure he could have stayed upright for this on his own. “You did,” Bill confirmed. “This is what happened when the vampire tried to make you return to him and you resisted. Your magic went a bit mad.”

“Oh God.”

“Let’s get you back in bed,” Bill said a moment later while Neville just continued staring at the devastation he had caused. 

“I can’t stay here,” he whispered as Bill tried to move him. “It’s too dangerous for everyone around me. I have to go.”

“Where would you go?” Bill asked. “You’re in an Unplottable house. It’s probably the only reason the creature hasn’t lured you back to him yet.”

“But it’s not safe for anyone here,” Neville said. “If I can do _this_ \--” he gestured at the ruined room, “--when I’m unconscious, then what if he manages to get control of me when I’m conscious? What would I be capable of then?” He blinked at Bill. “Am I a monster?”

Bill shook his head. “Back to your room now,” he said, half dragging and half carrying Neville down the hall. Once he was back in his bed, Bill pulled up a chair and called for Kreacher. “Bring us both some more tea, please,” he told the elf.

A minute later Neville felt better, his hands wrapped around the warm mug, although his thoughts were still a bit scattered as he tried to work out where he could go to keep his friends safe and yet be safe himself. 

“Neville.” 

Momentarily distracted, Neville looked up and into Bill’s calm gaze. “Mm?”

“You know, when I was mauled by Greyback I thought my life was over.” Bill smiled ruefully. “I thought I would be a monster, a danger to my family and to Fleur.”

Neville blinked and leaned forward, interested. “But you weren’t, you’re not.”

Bill smiled. “I suppose I could have been, but you’re right, I’m not. I get urges, which is why I tend to be a loner during the full moon, but above all I’m a man.” Reaching out, Bill touched Neville’s arm. “You’re not a monster. You control your destiny, remember that.”

“I can’t even control my body when I’m unconscious,” Neville muttered bitterly, looking away. 

“You can,” Bill said firmly. “The longer you’re away from the creature the less his pull on you. Last night was likely the most difficult time, and now that I’m here to watch you, I’ll make sure you don’t wander out in the middle of the night.”

“But I could hurt you,” Neville whispered, voice quavering slightly. “Look what I did to that bed...”

“I imagine that bed couldn’t fight back, however.”

Neville looked up, startled out of his dejected mood by Bill’s dry tone. “What?”

Bill smiled, baring his teeth, and Neville shivered. “I’m in no danger since I can fight back,” he said softly. “Trust me, you’re going nowhere.”

“So I’m trapped in bed with an attractive man watching over me?” Neville chuckled, the situation suddenly striking him as funny. “Shame it took being captured by a vampire to make something I’ve dreamed about come true...” Eyes wide, Neville trailed off. “Bloody hell,” he said. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud--”

Bill, eyebrow raised, seemed to be checking Neville out, and his frank look made Neville blush. “Why not?” he finally asked, his eyes lingering for a moment on Neville’s lips. “No one could be insulted by being considered attractive.”

“Still,” Neville said, cringing under his covers, “that probably wasn’t something you expected or wanted to hear from me--”

“Unexpected I’ll grant you, but I wouldn’t say _unwanted_.” Bill took the mug from Neville’s nerveless fingers. “But for now you need to get better.” His eyes narrowed. “And your neck is bleeding.”

Neville’s hand came up to his neck. “Shit. Hermione said it could start again at any time. She put a Stasis Charm on it; maybe it needs to be recast.”

Bill touched the hand Neville had pressed to his neck briefly before standing. “I’ll Floo Hermione,” he said. 

As Bill walked away, Neville followed the flex of his muscles beneath his fitted jeans. _Merlin help me, I’m doomed._ Where the hell was Harry to provide a bit of distraction?

~

“Where am I going to find a Potions master?” Harry muttered. His trip to see Headmistress McGonagall had been a bust. Apparently, she was actually contemplating teaching the subject herself until Slughorn was back on his feet, and Harry could just imagine her reaction if he explained that he needed a potion to reverse the effects of a vampire bite. 

Harry rolled his eyes. _What good is it if you don’t share any of your prowess with anyone when you’re a scientist?_ he thought as he walked towards Hogsmeade. Bloody Snape had been a bloody paranoid bloody git. 

While in the area, he’d decided to go through the town one more time to look for clues, although he doubted he’d find anything. A team had been through several times since the attack, of course, but now that Neville was back, Harry decided to check in at Hogwarts and then revisit the scene of the crime in the hopes it would give him some new ideas to pursue.

On his way past the Shrieking Shack, now boarded up and heavily warded, Harry’s footsteps slowed. So many things had happened in that place. If only it could talk... Harry froze. There was one way...

Glancing about to be sure he wasn’t being observed, Harry took off towards the Shack. Veering around the broken-down building, he darted into the woods. 

“Fuck, how could I have thrown it away like that?” he was saying softly as he scoured the ground. “I’m an idiot!”

Scratching his head, Harry looked around the overgrown brush. “I wonder if it will work if I just Summon it?” _Worth a try..._ Shrugging, he said, “ _Accio, Resurrection Stone_!”

It was only his half-forgotten Seeker reflexes that made him put his hand up to prevent the Stone from smacking him in the eye. “Wow, that was easy, maybe too easy,” he muttered.

Examining the thing in his palm, Harry frowned. Hadn’t Dumbledore said that things like the Hallows were hard to lose; that they liked being used?

“Guess you’ve been waiting here for me all this time, hm?” he said softly. 

Fortunately, it didn’t answer. Harry wasn’t sure what he’d have done if it had. 

_Let’s see, who can help me with Dark creatures?_ Several names flashed through his mind and he sighed. So many people had died. His parents, Sirius, Cedric, Fred, Remus...

“Oh well, in for a Knut,” he muttered, turning the stone over in his hand three times and closing his eyes as he wished for someone to help him.

A wet noise made Harry’s eyes open in shock only to see Remus and Sirius standing before him and...snogging? “Wh...what the hell?” he stuttered, gaping at the transparent figures that were clearly groping each other. “Sirius? Remus?”

Sirius raised his head and licked his lips. “Oh hullo, Harry!” He smiled and whispered something in Remus’ ear that made the other man smile. 

“Harry? Good to see you!” Remus’ head turned and he was beaming at him, and Harry grinned back for a second before it occurred to him how weird this all was. 

“Yeah,” he said, trying hard not to stare. “Right, so, um, good to see you, too.” He looked away. “I, er, need some help.”

“Of course,” Remus said, sounding encouraging. “How can we help you?”

Harry shook his head. “Look, I know this is none of my business,” he said in a rush, “but does this mean that you two were, I mean are, I mean...” he waved his hand between them in a vague way, “...an item? All this time? And you never said anything?”

“Most people knew,” Remus said. “It wasn’t something people talked about much. Not polite, you know? Not like these days.” 

“Yeah,” Sirius said, nodding his head. “These days people don’t care if you’re shagging the giant squid.” He winced as Remus smacked him. Then he refocused on Harry, pursing his lips. “You mean you really didn’t know about us?” he asked, shaking his head. “I know you were young, Harry, but I thought for sure you knew, especially since Hermione stumbled across us that day at Grimmauld....”

“She what?” Harry blinked. “She never said.”

“Maybe she wasn’t sure how you’d take it?” Remus suggested gently. “Or she decided it wasn’t something you needed to know.”

“Maybe.” Harry scrubbed his hand through his hair. “I can’t believe I had no idea. Not that it matters, of course, it was just a bit of a shock to have you both show up with your tongues down each other’s throats.” He smiled weakly and clenched the stone tightly. 

“Does it upset you?” Sirius asked, eyes piercing Harry. 

Harry shook his head. “That would be pretty hypocritical of me, now wouldn’t it?” He sighed. “And maybe my crush on you when I was a boy _wasn’t_ so strange.”

Sirius grinned. “You’ve no idea how flattered I am.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right,” he said, relaxing. 

Remus cleared his throat. “I don’t think this was why you called us back though, Harry, was it?” he asked gently. 

Harry flushed. “No, not really. Sorry.” He smiled ruefully. “Got a bit distracted for a second.”

Sirius leered playfully in Remus’ direction. “I can understand that, Harry. Happens to me all the time.” He reached for Remus’ arse only to be batted away. 

Harry chuckled as Remus rolled his eyes. “Right, well I’ll be quick so you can, um, get back to what you were doing,” he said, tongue-in-cheek.

Sirius chuckled. “No worries, we have all the time in the world for you, Harry,” he said, throwing his arm over Remus’ shoulder. “I was just teasing. Now, how can we help? Got a new Dark wizard problem?” 

“No, thank Merlin!” Harry breathed. “What we do seem to have, though, is a vampire problem.” As he explained what had happened to Neville, Sirius lost his joking mien and, releasing Remus, began to pace. 

“So Neville has some sort of charm on him preventing him from telling you where he was being held?” Sirius pursed his lips. 

“You know, at the same time he was working on Wolfsbane, Snape had also been working on a potion to reverse the effects of a creature bite,” Remus offered. “I let him test it on me a couple of times. He may have perfected it by now. I’d talk to him.” 

Harry shook his head. “That’s impossible.”

Sirius nodded in agreement. “I agree that he is, but you need a Potions master and they’re rare at the best of times.” He scratched his head. “Much as I hate to suggest it, knowing what a bastard he is, Snape is your best bet. Don’t tell him I said so, though.”

“Um, Sirius? Snape’s dead.” Harry shook his head. “If he were alive I’d have asked him already.”

Both men exchanged long looks then stared at Harry. “No actually, he’s not,” Remus finally said. 

“What?”

“Snivellus isn’t dead,” Sirius said. “I’ve never known someone who has a better sense of self-preservation than that man. No, Harry. Snape’s alive.” 

“But I saw him die!” Harry blurted. Telling them about that day in the Shrieking Shack, Harry concluded, “So I know he’s gone.”

“Are you sure?” Remus asked. “Knowing what you now know about magic and illusions, could it have been a trick?”

“No, I...” Harry sighed. “At least I don’t think it was. We went back afterward, you know. Hermione, Ron and I. We were, I dunno, hoping we could revive him, maybe? Only he was definitely dead. I went to his funeral.”

Sirius crossed his arms. “Nope, sorry, but he’s not here. The dead always know who else is dead, Harry. Trust me, he’s not here.”

“He was the foremost Potions master of our generation,” Remus said. “In addition, he was the most paranoid man I have even encountered. Even when we were in school he was completely wound up. And he’d been Voldemort’s lieutenant for a long time. There is no way he couldn’t have predicted and prepared for an attack from Nagini.”

Sneering, Sirius added, “Snivellus definitely isn’t here, Harry. If he were he’d probably be watching us all the time.” He shuddered. “Bastard was always snooping about behind us in school, watching to see if he could catch us shagging.” 

“Your exhibitionist streak didn’t help,” Remus murmured loud enough for Harry to hear.

“What? Snape was--is gay, too?” Harry cried. “Bloody hell, is everyone gay?”

“Only the interesting people,” Sirius replied, cringing as Remus jabbed him in his side with an elbow. “Ow! Git.”

“Well, your parents are disgustingly heterosexual,” Remus said, shaking his head at Sirius’ antics. 

Harry pinched his nose in an attempt to stave off his headache. “Thank goodness for small mercies,” he muttered. 

“Albus,” Sirius offered helpfully. “He could’ve been straight I suppose.”

Remus sighed. “As straight as a warped board,” he muttered.

Harry crossed his arms. “Now you’re just playing with me. The man wore purple robes. Everyone knew _he_ was gay.”

Sirius grinned. “Well, don't look now, but Neville, who you left with the sexy Weasley? They're totally flirting.”

Harry smiled. “We can only hope. They both need someone.” Then he frowned. “Wait, how did you know that? Are you watching them?”

Sirius, a distant look on his face, shushed him. “On this plane, we can see anyone we think of,” he said, a smirk on his face. “And when I mentioned them, I got a very inspiring vision. Now if only they’d snog--”

“Harry, did we help you at all?” Remus interrupted, shooting a disgusted look at Sirius. 

“Yeah.” Harry chewed his lip and absentmindedly tossed the Stone in the air. “You made me realise that Snape is alive and I need to find him. Any idea where he could be--?”

But Remus and Sirius were gone, and it belatedly occurred to Harry that he’d let go of the Stone, thus banishing them. “Thank you,” he whispered, smiling as the trees seemed to rustle in reply. He was clearly on his own to find Snape, but he was an Auror. He’d manage. Slipping the Stone into his pocket, he Disapparated.

~

Hermione had come and gone, leaving more potions and having recast the Stasis Spell on Neville’s neck. She’d been cautiously optimistic after examining him, saying that she thought his neck might have been improving. 

Bill sighed. She’d given him a searching look before stepping into the Floo, but she’d not asked him any questions, for which he was grateful. The last thing he’d wanted to do was explain to his brother’s girlfriend, why he was hovering like an anxious lover over Neville Longbottom. He smiled. Although, if she gave him any grief he could ask her about the state of her relationship with Charlie...

He’d taken a bedroom next to Neville’s, so after washing up, he got ready for bed. Neville had fallen asleep almost immediately after taking his potions, and Bill had cast the shield on him before leaving him.

A scream brought Bill running and as he stuck his head into Neville’s room, he only just managed to duck as a glass came sailing towards him. “Neville?”

Neville was thrashing about the bed, and Bill could see the shield he’d placed around him earlier pulsating as _something_ tried to break through it. It held, however, despite the rest of the items that were flying about the room.

Bill, wand out, sent several items back to the dresser before stepping close to the bed. Neville’s eyes were again open, blank and lifeless. The bed shuddered before stilling, and Neville’s eyes closed, a soft snore issuing from him.

Checking the time, Bill thought that this fit had been shorter than the last. He had no idea exactly how long the one had been the night before, not having been present for all of it, but he imagined his shield was helping to ameliorate the effect. 

Neville shifted and his eyes opened again, this time filled with awareness. He didn’t move until Bill removed the shield, though. “Did it happen again?” he asked, sitting up once he could. 

“Looks like,” Bill said, settling into what had become his usual chair. “That creature really wants you back, it seems.”

“Can’t think why,” Neville muttered, running his fingers through messy hair. “I’m nothing special.”

“I’ve heard a lot of rot in my life,” Bill said, “but that takes the cake.” 

It apparently took a moment for Bill’s words to sink in, but when they did, Neville blushed. “It’s true,” he insisted. “I can see why they would fight for someone like Harry. But why me?”

Bill leaned forward. “How many people do you think can pull the sword of Gryffindor out of the Sorting Hat?” he asked. 

Neville blinked. “I don’t know. I always assumed that was just a coinci--”

“There’s no such thing as coincidence,” Bill insisted quietly, cutting off Neville’s protests. “You think others haven’t tried to do the same thing?” 

“I...I’ve never really thought about it.” 

“Many have tried. I’ve studied its history, so I know. The sword of Gryffindor is a magical artefact that can choose its wielder,” Bill said, becoming more animated as he warmed to his topic. “I bet hundreds of people, if not thousands, could stick their hand into that hat and never find it. It responds to those it perceives as inheritors of Godric Gryffindor’s inherent traits; courage, bravery and determination, but I suspect it also takes a really special person to access it.” 

“All I know is that I just really needed it at that moment,” Neville said. “I saw that snake and I was terrified, but I also knew I had to do _something_ and then the sword was there and at times, it almost felt as if it was in charge.”

Bill nodded. “Some artefacts are like that,” he said. “They bring out the best in us. And some bring out the worst. But something like Gryffindor’s sword wouldn’t be likely to come to just anyone.” He smiled. “Like it or not, you’re special.” 

“You think the vampire is so determined because it knows I touched the sword of Gryffindor?” 

Narrowing his eyes, Bill leaned close enough that he could see the flecks of green in Neville’s eyes. “I think it sensed how special you are, just like the sword did.” 

Neville’s mouth was in the shape of an _O_ and Bill smiled, noting the aroused dilation of his pupils. It took all the control he had to move back. “Anyway, it’s time for more of your potion and for you to try to get some more sleep.”

Neville smiled and Bill was suddenly reminded of Fleur. What was it about this man that felt like pack? The pull was undeniable. He stood up abruptly. “Here you go,” he said, handing Neville another potion vial. 

“Thanks.” Neville took the potion and smiled, and something clenched in Bill’s gut. “And I just want you to know, I’m grateful for your help and your company.” 

Before Bill could respond to that, Neville closed his eyes and a moment later was resting comfortably. Bill stood there for a long time before he went to his own room.

~

Harry quickly decided that the logical place to start his search was the Shrieking Shack. The Ministry was unlikely to have anything helpful on a presumed seven-year-old murder, after all. He hadn’t counted on how decrepit the Shack would be, however. He almost fell through the floor three times before arriving at the spot where he’d seen Snape die. Well, where he’d _thought_ he’d seen Snape die. Apparently, everything had not been so straightforward. 

Looking around with his trained Auror eyes, Harry didn’t immediately spot any anomalies. It looked as he remembered it, and he sighed as the memories flooded back. Snape had looked done for. 

There was dust everywhere and the blood stains were still on the wooden floor, but when he cast a magic Tracing Spell, there was a trail leading away from the spot. Harry smiled. _Crafty bastard. Let’s see where you went._

It wasn’t far. 

Harry looked up at the Hog’s Head sign. “Still looks as dodgy as ever,” he muttered before walking in. 

“Harry Potter?” Aberforth seemed unsurprised as he nodded towards a stool. “Have a seat, then.”

Aberforth looked the same although perhaps his hair was a bit thinner. His blue eyes, reminiscent of Albus, were sharp as Harry carefully explained that he was looking for someone who was thought to be dead but who might have escaped the carnage of the Battle of Hogwarts. 

“Wondered when someone would come looking for him,” he mumbled.

“Him?” Harry asked. 

Aberforth shot a look at him. “Snape, of course,” he growled. “He came here that night. Looked awful, big gaping wound in his neck. He’d done some sort of healing spell and had taken some of his infernal potions, but he was still in a bad way.”

“What happened after that?”

“He left.” Aberforth set a spotty glass in front of him. “You drinking? This _is_ a pub, you know.”

Harry sighed at the unsubtle hint and eyed the glass, nodding cautiously. “All right. I’ll have a--”

“We have ale or ale,” Aberforth said. 

“I guess I’ll have some ale, then,” Harry said, suppressing a wince. 

Pulling out a bottle, Aberforth poured some into the glass, watching as Harry lifted it and gingerly took a sip. 

“So, back to Snape,” Harry said, putting the glass down and mentally thanking Hermione for having insisted he perfect wandless Cleaning Spells. 

“Himself was here for about a week,” Aberforth said. “Got a bit stronger, then decided to leave. Good thing, too, since I came close to killing him several times.”

“Why didn’t you say anything before?” Harry asked. 

Aberforth shrugged. “Wasn’t anyone’s business, was it?” He began vigorously rubbing a slab of wood he pulled out from behind the counter. “A man wants to disappear after the war, it’s no one else’s concern.”

“We thought he was dead,” Harry said. “He saved me. I managed to get him cleared posthumously and he’s even got an Order of Merlin.” 

“He’s probably still alive,” Aberforth offered casually. 

“Why do you say that?”

Aberforth smiled. “That one’s got the strongest will to live I’ve ever seen. He wouldn’t go down without a fight.”

“So, do you know where he went?” Harry leaned forward eagerly.

“I reckon he went up to Manchester. Kept mumbling something about relatives there.” Aberforth spat onto the piece of wood he was polishing and, after another firm swipe of the grubby towel, held it up. “What d’you think?” 

‘Harry Potter Drinks Here!’ it proudly proclaimed. 

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off his sudden headache. Maybe the other Aurors wouldn’t find out? Yeah, right. “Great. Any idea where he would have gone in Manchester? It’s a large place.”

Aberforth reached under the counter again, this time pulling out an old newspaper clipping and handing it to Harry. “He left that behind. That’s what he was reading the day before he left.”

Scanning the faded newsprint, an article caught Harry’s eye and he smiled. “This is great,” he said. “May I keep this?”

“Yeah, sure.” Aberforth waved his hand. “You helped me, I’ll help you.” Turning around, he set the sign over the mirror behind the bar. 

Harry narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t make that just now, did you?”

Aberforth chuckled. “Course not,” he said. “Been waiting for you to come back for a while. Figured it was only a matter of time.” He picked up Harry’s glass. “Done?”

Harry nodded and reached into his pockets for money. 

Aberforth held up a hand. “On the house,” he said, pointing to the sign.

Placing the newspaper in his robes, Harry stood up. “Thanks for your help,” he said. 

When he was outside, Harry exhaled. Something told him Snape wasn’t about to come back with him that easily.

~

“Harry!” Neville beamed as Harry walked in. “I was beginning to wonder if you lived here anymore. I haven’t seen you in days!”

Harry grinned as he sat down. “Sorry, late night and early mornings. I’ve been looking into finding someone to reverse the bite effects.” He leaned forward, tilting his head to look closely at Neville’s neck. “Is it any better?”

Neville shrugged. “Hermione says it’s stable; no better, no worse. Bill says my night time fits are the same as well. I feel as if I’m at a standstill, you know?” 

Nodding, Harry placed his hand over Neville’s, clasping it. “I bet it’s frustrating.”

Exhaling loudly, Neville looked away. “Bill’s been working with me to break the curse so that I can identify where they were holding me,” he said softy. “But I can’t help but think that there must be something else I can do to help the other captives. I have no idea if anyone else escaped, and at this rate they’ll have enough time to turn them all into vampires to terrorize the countryside while I just sit here--” 

“Stop that,” Harry said firmly. “Bill says you’re doing great and that’s what’s important. We’ve teams scouring Hogsmeade and its environs. We may yet find them.” He smiled. “And I have a lead on a person who may be able to help me get the vampire curse lifted.”

“Oh?” Neville smiled. “Who?”

“I don’t want to say in case I can’t get him to agree,” Harry replied. 

Neville narrowed his eyes. “Why don’t I like the sound of that? Is it anyone I know?”

“Hullo, Harry.” 

Relieved at the interruption, Harry released Neville’s hand and turned to face Bill. “Hey, Bill.” 

Bill’s eyes appeared focussed on their joined hands, and Harry smiled inwardly. _Well, well, well._

“Didn’t you say you were going out?” Bill asked a tad abruptly.

“I did and I am.” Harry stood up and walked towards the door. “Just wanted to see how Neville is doing. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Be careful,” Neville said. 

Harry grinned. “Don’t worry. I always am.” As he passed by Bill, he whispered, “He’s all yours.”

Bill didn’t say a word, although he did flush.

As Harry walked out, he heard Neville ask, “What was that about?” He chuckled when he reached his bedroom and started to pack. It looked as if things were going very well for his friends. Now he had to hope thing went as well in his quest.

~

“What was that about?” Neville asked.

Bill shrugged. “Who knows?” he said, perching in the very spot Harry had. “You feeling all right?”

Neville smiled. “I’m fine. I think I can be allowed to walk around now.” 

Bill shrugged. “That’s up to Hermione. She said she’d be by later. She’s concerned about the bleeding from your neck.” He looked down at Neville’s hand sitting on the coverlet. “So, are you and Harry are close?” he asked. 

“Close enough, I guess,” Neville answered, brow furrowed. “Why?”

“No reason. It just seemed as if I interrupted something when I came in.” 

“Interrupted?” Neville blinked, then smiled. “Between me and Harry, you mean? God, no.”

Neville reached out and took Bill’s hand, and Bill stared at their entwined fingers for a moment before looking up and into Neville’s eyes. “It’s fine if you two are--”

“We’re not.” Neville squeezed Bill’s fingers. “We’re friends, nothing more. I’ve always...” He looked away as if embarrassed, and Bill’s eyes narrowed. 

“What?”

“Always been attracted to older men,” Neville admitted softly. “I get the impression that Harry is, too, not that we’ve ever come out and talked about that sort of thing in detail--”

Bill shook his head. “It’s not my business. You don’t have to--”

“Apparently I do,” Neville insisted. “And it is your business, at least I hope it will be. I don’t want there to be any confusion. I know you’re probably not ready for any sort of relationship. I don’t know if you remember, but I was at Fleur’s funeral. We spoke briefly.”

Bill nodded. “I recall.”

“I’m sorry for your loss. I know you loved her, likely still do, but we...” Neville swallowed and Bill watched his Adam’s apple move convulsively as he obviously searched for words. “We have something between us. There’s a connection, or something, and I would like to see where it goes.” 

Bill’s head snapped up and he searched Neville’s eyes. “This could be the vampire bite influencing you, Neville. Are you even gay? You may not be thinking clearly--”

Neville shook his head. “I’m fine, but I shouldn’t have assumed that _you’re_ gay.” He looked away. “I didn’t say that to put you on the spot. You don’t have to say anything. If I’m wrong and I’ve been misreading the signs, then I’m sorry, but if I’m right then I’d like to see where this could go.”

“You’re a very direct man,” Bill said ruefully. 

Neville blushed. “I can be. I didn’t used to be, but after my seventh year at Hogwarts I decided that life was too short to not say what I mean. A lot of people died that year, and I found myself wondering if they’d had a chance to say their goodbyes, you know?”

Bill nodded. “I often wonder that about Fred,” he said. 

Neville’s eyes widened. “Shit, I put my foot in it again, didn’t I?”

“Relax,” Bill soothed. “We’ve all had ample opportunity to talk to Fred since he haunts the Burrow now. Trust me, we’ve all said everything we needed to, but your philosophy is a sound one.” Leaning forward, Bill smiled as Neville’s breathing audibly hitched. “So, now that we’ve established that we’re both interested, what now?” he asked. His inner wolf was speaking so loudly that it was difficult to remember that Neville wasn’t his to claim. Yet. He sighed. It was too close to the full moon for him to fight this...whatever this was between them. 

“We see where this goes,” Neville whispered. 

Bill, his eyes roaming Neville’s face, licked his lips. “I know where I’d like it to go, although it may not be advisable given your condition--”

“Sod my condition,” Neville growled, dragging Bill against him. “I really think I need some exercise.”

“Are you sure...you’re not just...getting a bit of...cabin fever?” Bill gasped even as he peppered Neville’s jaw and throat with kisses and dragged his hands over the skin of Neville’s arms.

“I agree...that it’s...a fever,” Neville managed in between opened-mouthed snogs in which their mouths seemed intent on fusing together. “Nothing...to do with...cabins, though.”

Bill laughed breathily as he climbed onto the bed and straddled Neville’s hips while trying to maintain mouth contact. “Maybe we should slow down--”

“Want you,” Neville said, his fingers tangled in Bill’s hair. “Are we just going to talk or--?”

Bill growled, pushing his hips against Neville’s and smiling as he felt the corresponding hardness beneath the sheet. His wolf had sighted his prey; there would be no turning back now. “The only talking we’ll be doing is with our bodies,” he said, capturing Neville’s lips with his before he could reply. This was the first time he’d even _wanted_ anyone since Fleur and he was bound and determined to enjoy it.

Neville apparently was, too. His hands were clutching Bill’s hips. He would have bruises in the morning. He found he didn’t mind. Wordlessly, he Banished their clothes, hissing as their skin touched. 

“Yes,” Neville sighed, his thighs separated, and Bill moaned as their pricks slid together, sending sparks up Bill’s spine. 

“Oh God,” he whispered as Neville undulated beneath him. The sensations as they both strove to get even closer intensified, aided by the slick pre-come which was steadily leaking from both of them, and when Neville threw his right leg over Bill’s hip, Bill lowered his head and lightly bit Neville’s shoulder. 

That was apparently all that Neville needed. With a hoarse cry, he came, pulsing his release between them as he trembled through his orgasm. 

His movements made easier by the addition of Neville’s seed, Bill sped up, frotting and panting until his balls drew up and he, too, came, spilling his essence onto their stomachs.

“Wow,” Neville gasped, his hand sliding up and down Bill’s back. He smiled. “Sorry I was so fast.”

Bill grinned down at him. “It’s not as if I was much slower,” he reminded him. Unable to resist, he pressed a kiss to Neville’s lips. Naturally, it turned carnal in about two seconds. 

Pulling away, he buried his face in Neville’s neck. “I can’t seem to get enough of you,” he whispered, a surprised chuckle escaping when he felt Neville’s still half-hard cock twitch. “And it seems the feeling is mutual.” 

Neville, his face flaming, said, “It’s hard to hide much when we’re this close,” he said. 

“Does that mean you’re up for another go?” Bill asked, shifting.

“It seems so.” Neville wrapped his arms around Bill’s neck. “Seems a shame to stop now when things are going so well.”

Bill smiled. “I like the way you think,” he said. And then, there was no thinking at all.

~The University of Manchester was located in Manchester on Oxford Road, and as Harry peered up at the impressive set of buildings, he realised quickly that he would need directions, and soon. The place was enormous!

And very busy. Students and faculty all walked briskly as if with purpose, and with his obvious indecision about where he was going and what he was doing, Harry definitely stuck out like a sore thumb. At least he’d ditched his robes for more traditional Muggle wear, and his jeans did help him fit in a bit more. 

He located the Department of Chemistry eventually. A gangly girl had finally taken pity on him and helped him by walking him there herself. As he looked down the list of faculty, a name caught his eye. “Do you know where _his_ office is located?” he asked, pointing. 

Five minutes later they were standing in front of a laboratory. “Here you go,” she said. “Professor Prince can be, um, testy at times, but he’s a very good chemist.”

Harry smiled. “Yes, I imagine he is,” he said. “Thanks.”

With a nod, the girl left and Harry eyed the door warily. There were so many different ways Snape could greet him that he wasn’t sure how this would go. Looking around to check that no one was watching, he slipped his wand out of his pocket, making it as accessible as possible.

Exhaling, he knocked. 

“Yes?”

Harry sucked in a breath. It sounded like him... Carefully, he turned the doorknob and stepped inside. 

The laboratory was well lit both by bright overhead lights and by sunlight streaming in through large windows that faced green, rolling hills. Every table was covered with papers, books and glass beakers. 

“Took you long enough.” A tall man with his back to the door was fiddling with some complicated-looking equipment. His black hair was streaked with grey, and his stance looked achingly familiar. “Just leave the reagent on the table, and put it down carefully, Morton; last time you spilled some.”

“I’m afraid I’m not Morton,” Harry said, bracing for an explosion. 

It never came. The back straightened up and Harry could see a long-fingered hand shaking before it was snatched back. “Potter?” 

“Professor.” 

“I thought you would find me eventually.” Snape turned his head and Harry saw that unforgettable profile. “It took longer than I thought it would. Are you here to arrest me? Am I the last of the outstanding Death Eaters you need to apprehend?”

“I’m not here to arrest you,” Harry said, shaking his head. “Actually, we need your help.”

 

“We?” Snape had spun around and was glaring at Harry as if the intervening seven years hadn’t happened. How Snape could still make him feel like an errant schoolboy all these years later was beyond him. 

“The Ministry for Magic,” Harry said. “I realise I’m not dressed the part, but I’m now an Auror.”

Snape raised an eyebrow and shot him a look that said, ‘And what does this have to do with me?’ They stared at each other in silence for a moment.

“You’re not a fugitive,” Harry continued doggedly when it became apparent that Snape wouldn’t be the first to speak. “You were pardoned, actually.”

“Indeed. How magnanimous. Well, such things do happen posthumously, I suppose.” Snape sneered. “I imagine now that the entire wizarding world is aware that I survived, I shall be inundated with Howlers.”

“I haven’t told anyone,” Harry admitted. “I wasn’t sure it was going to be you. This could have been just a dead end, which is why I decided to check it out on my own.”

“You set off after a war criminal on your own without backup?” Snape rolled his eyes. “How _have_ you survived this long, Potter?”

“I doubt you’re about to hurt me,” Harry said. “Not after all the trouble you went to trying to save me.”

“Perhaps not.” Snape pursed his lips. “That doesn’t explain why I should assist you, however.” 

“We have a...problem.” 

“Oh? Is there a new Dark wizard?” Snape pulled out his wand and waved it, the papers on his desk settling themselves into neat stacks. 

“Vampires,” Harry said. 

“Nasty.” Snape smirked. “You ought to do something about that.” 

“A nest attacked Hogsmeade and took several of the inhabitants captive.” 

Snape made a non-committal sound. 

“One person escaped, but he can’t tell us where the nest is, and until he does, innocent people will continue to be tortured. If we don’t find them, they’ll likely be murdered and turned.”

Snape shrugged. “Use Legilimency.” 

“I did. It didn’t work.” 

“Has someone _competent_ tried?” Snape sneered.

Harry closed his eyes and counted to ten. Slowly. “As I said, it didn’t work. We need to counteract the effects of the bite,” he said, reminding himself to stick to his goal. _I can’t let him distract me._ “The creature bit him twice.” 

Snape shrugged. “Then he is enthralled. There’s not much to do but hope he’s strong enough to fight it.” 

“He _is_ fighting it.” Harry frowned as Snape lit a burner with a muttered _Incendio_. “I didn’t think you’d use magic so openly in the Muggle world.” 

“There’s no one else here and it’s hardly likely to shock _you_ , is it?” Snape said, levitating one beaker off the lit Bunsen burner and setting it onto the counter before replacing it with another. “And you have not answered my original question. Why should I assist you?”

“Because we really need a Potions master, and there aren’t very many of them around.”

“To deal with vampires?” Snape smirked. “What are they teaching in Auror school, Potter? All you need to deal with vampires are some wooden stakes, crucifixes and holy water.”

“It’s my understanding that years ago you developed a potion to reverse the effects of creature bites,” Harry said, keeping careful hold on his temper.

Snape’s head snapped up and his eyes narrowed. “You’ve been talking to Lupin?”

Guardedly, Harry nodded. “Sort of. Anyway, we need you to make some more of that potion.”

“Then you do have a problem,” Snape muttered. “I am no longer brewing.” He crossed his arms. “I thought Lupin died in the war.”

“Most people thought _you_ died in the war,” Harry replied. “Clearly they were wrong.”

“So Lupin survived?”

“No.” Harry ran a hand through his hair. “So, will you or will you not come back with me?”

“Why should I?” Snape gestured around him. “I’m doing important work here. I am appreciated for my superior intellect. There is nothing back there for me.” He leaned against the counter. “So, how did you speak with Lupin if he’s dead, Auror Potter?”

Harry looked away. How _did_ this man manage to make him feel eleven years old all the time? “I used the Resurrection Stone,” he said. 

“You what?” Snape rolled his eyes. “You used a Deathly Hallow to have a casual chat with a dead man? You are truly an idiot!” 

“It wasn’t a casual chat!” Harry growled. He blinked when Snape smirked, then took a deep breath. “I was searching for someone to help me with Dark creatures and he came,” Harry continued more calmly. “When they arrived, they told me that you weren’t dead, which was why I decided to look for you. After that it was basic tracking.”

“ _They_?” Snape asked. “Lupin and--?”

“My godfather.” Harry crossed his arms. “Look, are you going to help me or not?” 

“Lupin and Black are still involved, even in the afterlife?” Snape laughed bitterly. “Dear God. Gryffindor sentimentality knows no bounds, does it?” 

“Why are _you_ so upset?” Harry snapped. “Depressed because you no longer get to spy on them as they shag?” 

A dull flush suffused Snape’s face as the words hung in the air between them. “Get out,” he growled. 

Harry was cursing himself mentally as he stepped forward. He held up his hand in the universal signal for ‘please don’t hurt me’. “Wait! Just--”

“I said get OUT!” 

“Snape, please--” 

“I’ll not say it again, Potter,” Snape said coldly. Turning away, he began fussing with something on the counter behind him. “This discussion is over.”

After staring for a moment at Snape’s unyielding back, Harry sighed and started for the door. _Maybe if I come back later he’ll be more receptive..._ As he placed his hand on the door, Harry said, “I’ll be back.”

He smiled when, as the door was about to close, he heard Snape say, “Yes, I imagine you will, Merlin help me.”

~

The door opened at two forty-seven and Severus sighed. “Returned for more punishment, have you?”

“Are you mad? After six years of school with you as my professor, this is nothing,” Potter replied, amusement lacing his voice. 

Severus raised an eyebrow. It had taken several minutes of pushing to get Potter to lose his temper earlier. _Perhaps the boy has learned something over the years._ As he turned to face Potter, however, Severus was again forcibly reminded that he was definitely no longer a boy. 

No, this Potter was a man; a broad-shouldered, slim-hipped man, and yet, still with that outrageous hair and his mother’s eyes. “Was my answer earlier not clear enough?”

“Professor, we really need your help. Surely there’s something you need that we can negotiate.”

Severus leaned back against the counter, hoping Potter wouldn’t see how much he needed its support. Even though he’d recovered a lot of his function since Nagini’s bite, he still suffered from bouts of irritating and inexplicable muscular spasms that meant he was likely to fall if he wasn’t near something solid to hold him up. Since he spent most of his time in his laboratory he hardly ever noticed, but he certainly didn’t want Potter knowing about it.

“I have all I need,” he said. 

“Except the respect of the wizarding world,” Potter said. 

“I hardly need that since I am no longer in it.” 

“But you want to come back, don’t you?” Potter had the gall to smile. “You use magic in secret, what else do you hide from the Muggles?”

“Your point?”

“You’re a wizard, Professor.” Potter chewed his lower lip for a moment, and Severus was reminded of the seventeen-year-old who’d faced Voldemort not knowing if he would live through it. “How can you be happy hiding who you are?”

“I have grown accustomed to it,” Severus said dryly. “It comes from a lifetime of persecution, and that’s even discounting my homosexuality.”

Potter coloured and Severus waited for the snide comment concerning his sexuality. But it never came. “Sorry about what I said yesterday,” Potter said clearly. “It wasn’t any sort of condemnation. How could I criticize you for that? I...I’m gay, too. It’s just frustrating because I know you could help us and so many could benefit from your work that--”

“Spare me the flattery,” Severus interrupted. Potter was a homosexual? Crossing his arms, he considered the man facing him for a long moment. “I suppose there is one thing I should like,” he finally said.

“What’s that?” Potter looked wary.

Severus held Potter’s gaze. “I should like to use the Resurrection Stone. Privately.”

Potter’s mouth opened in shock before he collected himself. “You...but why? Who do you want to talk to?”

“That is my business,” Severus said. “That is my condition. Take it or--”

“All right.” Potter spoke quickly, a thoughtful look on his face.

Severus narrowed his eyes. “You agree?”

Potter nodded. “Yes, I agree. If you come back with me and help us to reverse the vampire curse on Nev--on the victims, you can use the Resurrection Stone.”

“Longbottom?” Severus asked. “He’s the victim? And he hasn’t succumbed yet? It appears the boy grew a backbone.”

A bright red flush enveloped Potter’s face. “He’s always had a backbone,” he gritted out, looking as if he were about to hex Severus. Severus smiled. 

“Indeed. He did develop into quite the activist in the year you were off gallivanting across the countryside.”

“Professor, before we go any further I’d like to apologize for leaving you for dead. If we’d known--”

Severus held up a hand. “You thought exactly what you were meant to, Mr. Potter. You need have no regrets on my account. Now, tell me about Longbottom. Why do you think he hasn’t succumbed? Latent courage?”

“He killed Nagini,” Potter blurted out.

Severus’ eyes widened before he looked away. A surge of pride filled him before he quashed it. “Is that so? Then perhaps I do owe him a debt.” Pulling out his wand, he flicked it in the direction of his already packed and shrunken trunks. 

“You’re all packed?” Potter grinned. “I guess you were pretty confident of what my answer would be, hm?”

“The basis of any negotiation is knowing one’s opponent, Potter.”

Potter tilted his head. “Maybe one of these days we won’t be opponents anymore,” he said. 

Severus didn’t deign to reply to that, he simply gestured towards the door. “After you.” Gritting his teeth, he strode towards the exit, exerting every effort to not reveal his muscular weakness.

“Shouldn’t you tell someone you’re leaving?” Potter asked as he shut the laboratory door. 

“My assistant is already aware that I shall be away for a few days, as is the Chairman of the department,” Severus said. “They shan’t be expecting me back for a while.”

Potter nodded. “Right. Well, can you make it to the edge of the university grounds to Apparate or should I Side-Along with you here?”

_So much for concealing my infirmities._ “I do not require your assistance,” Severus snapped. “Since you appear aware of my residual injuries, I shall say this once. I am not handicapped in any way that requires your coddling; I can do anything that you can.” 

Potter raised an eyebrow. “You have injuries?” he asked, looking Severus up and down. “I hadn’t noticed, actually. I asked because we’re going to Grimmauld Place and since it’s still under a Fidelius Charm and I’m the Secret-Keeper, I’ll need to bring you or write down the address for you.”

Severus silently cursed his loose tongue. “I see. In that case I suppose it is easier for you to Apparate both of us.”

“Good idea,” Potter murmured. “Is there somewhere close and private--?”

Severus inclined his head. “An empty classroom over here,” he said, allowing himself to limp since he was no longer fooling anyone. To his surprise, Potter automatically slowed his own pace without comment, although Severus could imagine it would be difficult given his long legs. _And why am I even noticing his legs?_

Since it was afternoon, the place was deserted, and after quickly looking around, Severus nodded for Potter to proceed. Stepping close, Potter placed his hand on Severus’ arm. Severus tried not to notice the tingle that went through him at the contact, and as the rush of Apparation engulfed him, he closed his eyes and tried to tamp down the feeling that he was finally going home.

~

Neville shivered involuntarily as Bill’s hand trailed down his back. “Don’t tell me you’re ticklish,” Bill whispered, his hand tracing obscure patterns on Neville’s skin. 

“All right,” Neville replied, an irrepressible smile on his face. “I won’t tell you.”

Bill shook his head. “Don’t force me to find out the hard way,” he threatened, his hand lingering on the curve of Neville’s bare arse. 

“Maybe I just need to distract you,” Neville said, pressing close to Bill and kissing him. Their lips clung for a moment before they pulled apart. 

“If I get any more distracted, I won’t be able to walk,” Bill murmured back. “You _do_ have a lot of stamina.” 

Neville could feel himself blushing. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he said. “I’ve never...I mean, I’m not usually like this.”

“Like what?”

“This...insatiable.” Neville looked away.

“It could be an effect of the bite,” Bill whispered, his hand coming up to touch the bandage on Neville’s neck. “Vampires are supposed to have a lot of stamina.” Neville sighed and Bill leaned forward, nuzzling his jaw. “Or it could just be that I’m inspiring,” he continued, grinning. 

Neville smiled back. “You are,” he said. “Very.”

Bill sat back with a visible effort. “Speaking of the bite, the wound isn’t bleeding again, even though we were pretty strenuous that last round, so I think that means your immune system is reasserting itself. That’s what Hermione said could happen, remember? If the effects of the bite began to fade.” 

“So maybe I’ll heal myself?” Neville looked up into Bill’s eyes. “Maybe I won’t need a potion?”

“If Harry manages to find someone who can give you a potion to reverse the effects of the vampire bite, would you say no?”

Neville shook his head. “Not even if it meant I’d revert back to having a normal sex drive,” he joked. It came out sounding plaintive, however.

Bill pursed his lips. “There’s nothing wrong with a normal sex drive,” he said quietly. 

As Neville opened his mouth to reply, an Apparation crack sounded and he could hear footsteps. “Bloody hell! I guess Harry’s back,” he said.

Bill smiled. “And?”

“And we’re both naked in bed together!”

“If I read Harry right, he’ll be thrilled,” Bill murmured. 

Neville blinked. “What? But--” Just then, the door was flung open.

“Neville! Bill! I found someone who can help--”

Nervous laugher bubbled up in Neville’s throat at the gobsmacked look on Harry’s face. _What a picture we must make!_ But when a familiar pair of black eyes peered over Harry’s shoulder, Neville blanched. “Headmaster S...Snape?” he stuttered.

Bill, however, didn’t seem put off at all. “Hullo, Harry.” His eyes flicked to Snape and he smiled. “Snape. I guess the rumours of your death have been greatly exaggerated.”

As Snape took in the scene with apparent equanimity, Neville cringed. The two of them tangled together under thin sheets was not how he wanted to be found by anyone, much less Snape. Neville said a quick and silent prayer of thanks that they had pulled the sheet up over their bodies minutes before. His eyes flicked to Harry, and he was surprised to see an almost envious look on his face. When he saw Neville was staring at him, however, he smiled reassuringly, his face clearing. 

“Mr. Longbottom,” Snape said, stepping around Harry and entering the room fully. “I understand you’ve been bitten twice by a vampire.”

Neville nodded in what he hoped was a calm way. It wasn’t every day one had a dead man walk into one’s bedroom, after all. Especially when one was clearly in a compromising position with another man.

Snape’s eyes narrowed in concentration. “Mr. Potter tells me that you still have a non-healing wound left by the creature,” he said.

“It’s on his neck,” Bill said, moving Neville’s head so that Snape could see it. “Hermione put a Stasis Spell and this bandage on and they’ve held so far, although the wound does bleed periodically.”

Snape was now so close that Neville could smell the faint tang of bitter herbs that had always seemed to linger about him when he’d been Potions professor. Neville held his breath as Snape examined him, exhaling slightly when he moved away. 

“Granger did an adequate job,” Snape finally announced. “The most important thing now, however, is that you need to get this bond severed. I am not sure if it’s possible; it depends on how deeply the creature got its fangs into you.” 

“It bit me twice,” Neville said. “I think it was over the course of two or three nights but I can’t be exactly sure. I lost track of time.”

“Indeed,” Snape said. “Not surprising, given the circumstances Mr. Potter tells me you had to endure.”

Neville blinked in surprise. Snape had almost sounded admiring, but surely that couldn’t be...

“Although that does not surprise me, given the depth of character you displayed during your seventh year under my tutelage,” Snape continued, much to Neville’s shock.

“I, um, what?” he said.

Snape smirked. “It appears your level of eloquence remains much the same, however.” He walked towards the door. “I shall get started on the potion immediately. Potter tells me that he has adequate brewing facilities here. I shall reserve judgement on that for the moment.” He pursed his lips. “I have some experience with creature bites, albeit mostly with werewolves. I imagine, however, that some similar principles apply.” 

Bill had been stroking Neville’s bare back for some time and it had been a distraction, but at that statement, Neville perked up. “So you’ll be able to reverse some of the effects of the bite?” he asked. 

“What effects are you experiencing?” Snape asked. 

“Nightmares, sleep spell casting, extra, um, stamina--” Neville blushed. 

Snape’s eyes glittered; whether with amusement or not Neville had no idea. “Indeed. Well, the nightmares are likely induced by the creature attempting to re-establish its hold on you. The stamina...” Snape raised an eyebrow, “...are you sure that’s not something you’d rather keep?”

“I’ll show you where the lab is,” Harry said as Neville blushed furiously and Bill chuckled softly. 

Snape nodded, and just as he reached the door, he paused. “Oh, and gentlemen?” 

Neville looked up at him inquiringly, noting that Bill was doing the same. 

Snape smiled wickedly. “The next time you decide to indulge in private activity, may I suggest you lock the door?”

He swept from the room, Harry following immediately after him. Before he left, though, Harry winked. 

Bill was shaking with laughter and once Harry was gone, he leaned his head against Neville’s shoulder. “Well he’s certainly mellowed,” he chuckled. As Neville stared disbelievingly at him, Bill laughed all the harder. “Hey, at least he didn’t critique our physiques,” he said. “It could have been worse.”

Neville exhaled. “Give him time,” he muttered gloomily.

Bill simply smiled and began nibbling at Neville’s shoulder. 

Neville’s breath hitched and he moaned. “We really shouldn’t,” he argued half-heartedly as Bill’s caresses grew bolder. 

“Do you really care what he thinks?” Bill whispered.

“Not really,” Neville replied, his eyes fluttering closed as Bill lightly sucked his Adam’s apple.

“Good,” Bill said, his lips now skimming Neville’s jaw. “I’ll continue my distraction then, shall I?”

“Please,” Neville sighed, reaching up to pull Bill on top of him, and as Bill continued his excellent distraction techniques, Neville vowed to find out what had caused the odd look he’d spotted on Harry’s face earlier. Then all such considerations left his mind under the onslaught of Bill’s mouth and hands and body. 

~

“Harry?”

Harry looked up from the parchments spread out in front of him, smiling in welcome when he saw who was there. “Hermione. I didn’t hear you arrive.”

“Probably because you’re distracted,” she said, walking into the study and closing the door behind her. 

He made a face. “You think?” he asked dryly.

Hermione grinned. “Just a feeling. I have my perceptive moments.”

“Can you blame me?” Harry grimaced. “I think anyone would be distracted under the circumstances.”

“I never told you this,” she confided, “but I always had a feeling that Snape was still alive somewhere.” 

Harry raised an eyebrow. “And you never said?” 

She shrugged. “It’s hard to justify a manhunt based on a feeling, especially as I had no facts to base that feeling on.”

“Why did you think he was alive?”

“Snape always struck me as too much of a survivor to have succumbed to something as, well, predictable as a snake bite, especially since he knew that’s what happened to Arthur.” Hermione sighed. “Plus, he’s a Potions master. I can’t see him not having a bezoar and some anti-venom on him at all times.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, but didn’t you get the feeling there at the end that he _wanted_ to die? That it was his way of atoning or something?”

“Apparently not,” she said. “I, for one, am glad he survived.” 

“Yeah...” Harry glanced down at his copy of the _Prophet_ with its headline that was declaring _War Hero Severus Snape is Alive and Returns to Aid Ministry in Time of Need!_ He flipped it over. “The media reaction has surprised me, though. I thought there would be outrage, and here everyone is welcoming him back.”

Hermione sat down and looked at Harry pointedly. “Arranging that took some work, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh?” Harry leaned back. “Why am I surprised? So what did you do?”

“I just sent a few owls out to certain people when I realised Snape was alive.” She smiled. “Have you forgotten that Lavender was promoted recently?”

“And?”

“And she took over Skeeter’s column. Seems like a natural fit, doesn’t it?” 

“You’re friends with her?” 

Hermione grinned. “ _She’s_ friends with _me_ ,” she clarified. “I think she saw the advantage of cultivating a friendship now that she’s marrying into a family I’m close to.”

“Speaking of close...” Harry began.

Hermione held up a hand. “Harry! I’m not going to talk about Charlie, no matter how many times you ask. At least not until you’re prepared to talk about _your_ love life.”

“What love life?”

She smiled. “The one I suspect you’re about to have. Speaking of Snape, how are things going?”

“I thought we were talking about my lack of a love life.”

“Mm.” She chuckled. “We’re talking about a lot of things right now. Whatever connection you choose to draw is up to you.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Snape is his usual exasperating, irascible, infuriating self, although I don’t think I appreciated until now what a dry sense of humour he has.” 

Hermione nodded. “It is hard for students to appreciate their professors as regular people. Has he seen the paper?” 

“I don’t know if he’s seen the latest article yet. He doesn’t seem the type to enjoy notoriety.” Harry pinched his nose. “He’s working hard on the potion for Neville, at least.”

“And it seems to be having a effect,” Hermione said. “His wound is definitely improving. He did give you an idea of where the captives were being held, right?”

Harry nodded. “Yes, although, unfortunately, they’d already been moved. We’re still trying to track them.”

“Shame.” Hermione murmured. “Yet that’s all due to Snape. Say what you will, but he really is brilliant.”

“Yeah, he is.” Harry sighed. “Although I did have one moment of vindication, though.” 

“Oh?”

Harry grinned. “He tried his ‘superior’ Legilimency skills on Neville because he didn’t believe I had been thorough enough, and he didn’t get anywhere.”

Hermione shook her head. “I’m so glad you’re both being adults about this.”

“Well _I’m_ being an adult,” Harry muttered. 

“Uh huh.”

“I am!”

“Right. Anyway, speaking of potions--” Hermione reached into her robes and pulled out a vial. “That’s for Snape.”

“What is it?” Harry asked, picking it up and looking at it.

“He’s suffered a lot of nerve damage. It’s a new Nerve-Repair Potion I’ve developed. It may help his gait.” Standing up, she leaned over the desk. “I have to go, but I think you and Snape need to talk. I suspect you have unfinished business.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me,” Harry said. “I think he’s avoiding me.”

“Or you’ve been avoiding each other.” Hermione rolled her eyes. “Honestly, the two of you are acting like infants! Talk to him or I’ll talk to him for you!”

Harry held up a hand. “All right! God, you’re bossy.” 

“And you love it,” she said, walking towards the door. “Do it soon, Harry. You never know when I’ll decide to intervene.”

She narrowly missed the wad of parchment he threw at her.

~

“Why are you here, Mr. Weasley?” 

Bill leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. Trust the bastard to know he was there and yet let him wait before acknowledging him! “How’s he doing, Snape? Really?”

Snape set the burner to low, stirred the contents of his cauldron six times clockwise, then spun to face Bill. “I presume you mean Mr. Longbottom?” he said. 

Bill narrowed his eyes and stood up straight. “Of course I mean Neville, you g--” Bill took a deep breath. There was little use in antagonizing the man. “Yes, I meant Neville,” he continued more calmly. “He _is_ the invalid, the one Harry had to drag you back here to treat.” Bill moved closer. “Can you tell if your treatment is working?”

“It’s difficult to say.” Snape crossed his arms. “The creature’s hold on him is tenacious, to say the least,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You are probably in the best position to say how he is doing seeing as you share his bed.”

After he’d crossed his own arms, Bill realised he was mimicking Snape. He sighed. What was it about this man that made him so defensive? “You don’t approve,” he stated, watching Snape carefully.

Snape smirked. “It isn’t my place to approve or disapprove, Mr. Weasley. Facts are facts. You are the one sleeping with him. I suggest you observe his behaviour more closely if you have questions as to his disposition or mood.”

Bill blinked. Snape was being quite acerbic, even for him. “Why you-- I believe you’re jealous, Snape!”

“ _That_ is too ridiculous to even credit with a response,” Snape snapped. “Get out.”

“Oh, struck a chord, did I?” Bill was now standing close enough to touch Snape if he wanted to. “I think you’re jealous of what we have,” he said. Then, he got a sudden insight. “Perhaps you’re jealous because you wish you had the same with Har--” 

“Out!”

“Bill? Snape? What’s going on?” Harry, an unreadable look on his face, was standing at the door. “Everything okay here?”

Snape turned away. “Everything is fine. I need everyone to leave me alone as I brew. These are volatile ingredients and this process will not be helped by exposure to random magical signatures.”

Bill ran a hand through his hair, now regretting having goaded the man. “Look, Snape, sorry. I’m just concerned...”

“I am well aware of your concerns,” Snape snarled, his back still turned. “Now, if you do not leave, the responsibility for this batch failing will surely rest on your head.”

Bill shook his head and turned to fully face Harry, who was still staring daggers into Snape’s back. He raised an eyebrow and Harry flushed. “Right. I’ll go,” he said, stalking towards the door. “Let me know if you have any breakthroughs, will you?”

He heard Snape’s mumbled reply before he shut the door. Smiling, he went back to Neville’s room. If the tension he’d been sensing was anything to go by, Snape was in for some interesting times.

“What are you smiling at?” Neville asked as he walked in.

“So, do you think Harry’s interested in Snape?” Bill said, snagging a scone on his way past the makeshift buffet Kreacher had set up in Neville’s room. 

“What did you do?” Neville said, eyes narrowing. 

“Why must I have done anything?” Bill asked, sliding into bed beside Neville. “It was just a question.”

Neville chuckled. “I’ve been wondering that myself, actually. There’s definitely something going on with the two of them.”

“The way there’s something going on between the two of us?” Bill asked. 

“Maybe.” Neville grinned. “Not nearly as hot as with us, though.”

Before Bill could take advantage of Neville’s parted lips for a quick snog a pop informed him of Kreacher’s arrival. “Master Snape sends new potion for Master Longbottom.”

Neville made a face. “Wonder if this one will taste any better that the last one?” he asked, holding out his hand for the vial. 

“Kreacher knows not, sir.” Kreacher handed Neville the vial, then stepped back. “Must take it immediately, Master Snape says.”

Bill grinned as Neville rolled his eyes. “That’s fine, Kreacher. He’ll take it.” 

Kreacher nodded and disappeared. Neville continued contemplating the potion. “And why do I have to be confined to this room while he experiments on me?” he asked. “I feel fine. I really should go home and check on my seedlings--”

“Not a chance,” Bill said firmly. “He’s still convinced your immune system is in danger from these attempts to nullify the vampire bite, and while he may be an obnoxious, paranoid git, he’s still brilliant.” He placed a finger under Neville’s chin and tilted his face up. “Now take the potion.”

“Fine,” Neville muttered. “All right.” He tilted the tiny bottle back, grimacing as the viscous yellow fluid went down. “Gah, that’s awful.”

Bill sighed and took the vial from him, placing it on the bedside table. It disappeared a moment later, transported, as it always was once consumed, back to Snape in his lab. “Give that a chance to settle and then see if you can feel any difference,” he said. 

Neville nodded and closed his eyes. “I keep wondering what’s happening to the other captives,” he said so softly that Bill had to lean close to hear him. “I really hope this works this time so I can tell Harry about the castle.”

Bill froze. “Castle?” he asked carefully. “What castle?”

“The castle where they were holding us,” Neville said. “It looked old. It was set very close to a forest, as if the trees had grown up around it after decades of neglect.”

“Neville, that’s the first time you’ve been able to say anything about this,” Bill said, excited.

Neville’s eyes popped open. “Merlin, you’re right! We need to tell Harry! I’m pretty sure I can describe the place to him now.”

Bill tugged him out of the bed and onto his feet. “Right, come on, then. I think Snape may need to hear this as well.”

The trip down to Snape’s makeshift lab was fast, despite Bill’s attempts to make Neville slow down. “I’m fine,” Neville muttered every time Bill grabbed his arm, although, to Bill’s eyes it was obvious that he was out of breath by the time they got down the stairs. As he limped towards the door, Neville said, “I may let you carry me back upstairs, though.” 

Bill smiled. “It’s a deal.” Pushing the door open, he ushered Neville inside. It took him a moment to see why Neville’s mouth had fallen open. 

Snape and Harry, arms wrapped around each other, lips joined, were clearly in their own world as they kissed. Bill was sure he could see their tongues entwining as he watched. Neither one noticed that there were now others in the room.

Bill cleared his throat, smirking as they sprung apart. 

Snape had automatically stepped in front of Harry in an oddly endearing and protective gesture. “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” he growled. His eyes flicked towards Neville. “What’s wrong?”

Bill held up a hand. “Sorry about the interruption,” he said, unable to suppress his grin, “but I thought you’d like to know that Neville can now talk about where he was held. It seems that last potion you gave him worked.”

Harry pushed his way in front of Snape. “Oh, Neville, that’s brilliant! What can you tell me?”

As Harry gently but thoroughly quizzed Neville, Bill watched as Snape fiddled with his cauldrons. Apparently sensing Bill’s regard, Snape raised his head and scowled at him. “Yes?”

“Thank you for helping him,” Bill said. 

Snape inclined his head, a dull flush spreading over his face. “The potion is not yet perfected,” he warned. “More work will need to be done to be sure all the side-effects are worked out.”

“If you could improve the taste, that would help,” Neville called over. 

Harry grinned. “I think that’s a rule for all medicinal potions,” he said, shooting a fond look at Snape. “They all have to taste bad.”

“Indeed. Your appreciation is overwhelming.” Snape turned his back on them all, although Bill imagined he was still listening carefully. 

Neville opened his mouth, but when Harry shook his head, he shrugged. “Anyway, this is great information,” Harry said. “We can definitely use this to locate the hostages. In fact, I think I know exactly where this is--” Harry pulled out his wand. _“Expecto Patronum!”_

After the graceful stag had galloped away, Harry turned to Bill. “I’m going to go and see if I can scope out the area before the rest of the Aurors arrive,” he said. 

“I’m going with you,” Neville stated. He held up a hand as both Harry and Bill began to protest. “I need to go! If the creature is there, I have to kill it! This may be my only chance to break this curse.”

“You can’t, you’re too weak.” Bill grabbed Neville’s arm. “This will be too dangerous. It’s going to be a raid.”

“It has to be me,” Neville said, his jaw set.

“Neville--” Harry looked worried as well, and Bill shared a concerned look with him.

“Longbottom is correct,” Snape interrupted from behind them. Bill turned to look at him. “His best chance of reversing the curse is to deliver the killing stroke himself,” Snape said, waving his hand and dousing the last fire before levitating the cauldron onto the counter.

“Neville, it’s not safe,” Bill repeated. “Maybe if we wait for the rest of the Aurors to arrive then we can--”

“No!” Neville turned imploring eyes onto Bill. “Please. I have to do this.”

Harry ran a hand though his hair in a gesture that Bill was beginning to recognise meant he was losing patience. “Whatever we decide to do, we have to do it quickly. I don’t want to lose the trail, and if, with luck, they’re there, I don’t want to lose _them_.” 

“We shall all go,” Snape said. “I am not inexperienced with battles, after all, and I imagine that Mr. Weasley will not allow Longbottom to go unaccompanied.” 

“You’re right,” Bill replied, clasping Neville’s hand. “I won’t.”

Snape held out a vial. “Perhaps a Strengthening Draught before you go would be best,” he said, handing it to Neville. 

Neville sighed and then took it, making a face as it slid down. “Ugh.”

Snape smirked. “My personal formulation,” he said. 

“Figures,” Neville muttered.

“We’re all going, then?” Harry looked impatient and as they all nodded, he grinned. “All right, but when we get there, do what I say, all right? Even you, Snape.” 

Snape’s only reply was a raised eyebrow.

“Right, we’ll Apparate together,” Harry said, reaching for Snape’s hand first, Bill noted. As they all held hands and Harry closed his eyes, the last things Bill saw before the squeezing sensation enveloped him were Neville’s eyes.

~

They landed in a clearing, and in the distance the turrets of a castle could be seen. Neville blanched when he saw the building. “This is it,” he whispered. 

As they moved through the trees it began to get dark, and Harry, on alert, moved ahead. Severus kept up with him, and Bill and Neville brought up the rear.

“And naturally we arrive at dusk,” Severus murmured dryly. “The best time to confront vampires.” 

Harry sighed as he walked. “It just worked out this way. It’s not as if we could have waited another day, Severus. The hostages would have been at even higher risk. Plus, backup should be here soon.”

“I do not recall agreeing to first names,” Severus said. 

Harry smiled, knowing Severus couldn’t see him. “I suppose I assumed it would be all right since not an hour ago we had our tongues down each other’s throats,” he said, pleased when his voice came out evenly.

“Impudent brat.” 

This time Harry allowed a soft chuckle to escape. “You can call me names as long as we get to snog again. You’re great at it.”

“Indeed.” 

Severus’ voice sounded odd, so Harry risked a glance backwards, surprising a thoughtful look on his face. Unfortunately, just then, Harry stumbled. Severus was there immediately, helping him to his feet. “Pay attention,” he snapped. “I have no interest in snogging dead men, I’ll have you know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Harry whispered back. 

Severus rolled his eyes. “Eyes in front, Po--Harry. Mind on the mission.”

Harry smiled, contemplating the mission he had planned for later involving him, Severus, and a soft bed. “Oh, it is, trust me.”

“You two all right?” Bill asked, catching up, Neville right behind him. When Harry nodded, he exhaled. “So, what’s the plan, Harry?”

“Not sure.” Harry frowned, looking around. “Although the others should be here by now.”

Neville shivered visibly as he looked up at the now looming building. “They had an Anti-Apparation Shield up the last time,” he said. “You think maybe it’s up again?”

“We Apparated in fairly easily, though,” Harry said, pursing his lips. Closing his eyes he probed with his senses, biting his lip when he found that there _was_ , in fact, a shield up. “How did we get through?”

“I allowed it because you carried my servant with you,” a cool voice said. “I let you through so that I could see him and drink from him again.” A figure materialized from behind a group of trees, and as it stepped forward its pale face became clear. Razor-sharp teeth were visible. “And you brought me gifts; excellent!”

To Harry’s surprise, Neville, his eyes blazing, bared his own teeth. “The only gift I’ve brought you is death,” he said quietly, sidling away from Bill. To Harry’s shock, Bill let him go.

The creature laughed. “I knew you’d be a handful when I first tasted you,” it said, extending its hand towards Neville in what looked to Harry like entreaty. “You know you can’t resist. Come to me.”

The power in that voice washed over Harry and he clenched his teeth. That voice was like a lure, and yet... He exhaled. Whatever it was in him that allowed him to resist the Imperius Curse was also allowing him to resist this. 

Not Neville, however. When he shuffled forward, almost as if being forced, Harry clenched his wand. “Neville, please,” he hissed urgently. He started to reach for Neville, only to be held back by a force. “What the--?”

“I’ll deal with you in a moment,” the creature snarled. “Impossible to ensnare...that must mean you are the legendary Harry Potter. Oh but it shall be my pleasure to break you. Or perhaps I shall allow my new servant to do it.” 

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Let him go.”

The vampire laughed, the sound stabbing Harry’s ears like daggers. “Be silent! I shall dine on you slowly.”

“Harry, shut up,” Severus whispered. 

Harry blinked. “What? But do you see what it’s--?”

“I do. Just watch,” Severus muttered. 

Bill seemed to be fighting the shield as well, and all any of them could do was watch helplessly. By the time Neville got to the vampire, Harry was aware that they were surrounded. He could see several ill-defined figures in between trees, and when he tried to count, he quickly lost track. 

“Severus--”

“I see them,” was the quiet answer. “Wait.”

“Just one more drink,” the vampire crooned, its hand reaching for Neville. “That’s all it will take. Then you shall belong to me and I to you. It’s time to taste your destiny.” 

Neville, his eyes locked on the vampire, nodded. “Yes,” he said, his voice soft, dreamy. “It is.” And as Harry watched, horrified, he leaned forward. 

The vampire smiled, its sharp incisors glinting in the dim light, and as it dipped its head, Neville moved his hand and _pushed_. 

The creature, its lips locked in a parody of a smile, mouth open, screamed. Then, its eyes widened and it toppled forward, collapsing onto the ground. 

Harry, suddenly finding he could move, rushed forward, but he was too late to catch Neville. Bill was already there, cradling Neville in his arms even as the vampire turned to a pile of dust before their eyes. 

“Look out,” Severus said, and then Harry was locked in a battle, hexes flying thick and fast as he blasted vampires left and right. Somehow, they ended up back to back, defending themselves and Bill, who was still on the ground, trying to revive Neville.

“Where are your bloody Aurors?” Severus yelled, sending what looked like a particularly vicious hex towards a creature that had been flying towards them. 

“They should be here already,” Harry muttered, doing his own share of hexing. “What was that spell, by the way?”

Severus shook his head. “Something of my own creation,” he said. 

“You’re still creating spells?” Harry asked, sending a Stunning Hex towards a tall vampire that was flying at them. 

“This was something I invented when I was quite young,” Severus said, casting three hexes in quick succession. “I had an active imagination as a student, as you are aware, and after a certain incident involving your godfather, I spent a lot of time imagining spells that would work against Dark creatures. I am pleased to see that vampires are quite susceptible.” 

Several loud cracks signalled the arrival of the Auror corps and Harry sighed. 

“About time,” Severus snapped, dispatching another vampire with a twist and muttered hex. 

“Took you long enough!” Harry called over to Miller. 

The other Auror rolled his eyes as he immediately began dispatching vampires. “They had a shield up! We only just got through.”

The battle was essentially over after that. None of the creatures would stop attacking, so they were forced to kill them all, and by the end, Neville was awake and feeling better. 

“Sorry for fainting,” he said. “I just kinda blacked out when I staked him.”

“Staking him with your wand was inspired!” Harry said. “Although you may need a new one.” They all looked down at the charred piece of wood lying on the ground. 

“Have you found any of the other victims?” Neville asked, getting to his feet with Bill’s help. 

Harry glanced over to where the Auror teams were levitating pale people out of the castle. “Looks like it,” he said. “I guess I’d better let them know we have a potion to reverse the effects.” 

As he started towards Miller, Harry heard Neville say, “I’m glad that’s over. Now things can get back to normal.”

_Normal?_ Harry pondered his new relationship -- at least, that’s what he hoped it was -- with Severus. Somehow, he doubted it would ever be normal.

~

“You are all idiots,” Hermione pronounced as she examined Neville. 

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit harsh?” Harry asked. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “No. Your phenomenal luck held, but it was still an idiotic thing to do.” She jabbed at Neville’s skin with her wand. “It does seem to have worked, though. I see no traces of the vampire’s influence.”

Neville sagged against Bill, clearly relieved. “Thanks, Hermione. And I do feel a lot better; like myself again, actually.”

“Good. Then my prescription is to finish _all_ of the Blood-Replenishing Potion I gave you, and you should be fully recovered.” She slipped her wand into her robes and straightened up. “I want to see you in my clinic at St. Mungo’s in one week.”

“He’ll be there,” Bill murmured. 

Hermione cocked her head at Bill. “Your parents are back, by the way. Molly told me she’s planning a big dinner Sunday and that she’d love it if you and Neville would come.”

Neville flushed. “I...um...”

“We’ll be there as well,” Bill said firmly, clasping Neville’s hand.

Harry smiled. “Right, well since Neville’s fine, I’d best go find Severus. He said he had a bit more work to do on the potion before he submits the formula to St. Mungo’s.”

“Oh, Harry.” Hermione allowed a mischievous smile to curve her mouth.

Harry looked wary. “Yes?”

“Molly says you and Severus are invited to dinner as well.” She grinned. “I told her you and he are, um, talking.”

Harry groaned. “Hermione--”

She held up a hand. “Please? Charlie’s coming in from Romania for the occasion, and we have some, um, news.” She blushed. “I’d really like for you to be there.”

Bill chuckled. “We’ll _all_ be there, I promise,” he said. “Even Snape.”

Harry flushed. “Yeah, well I guess I’d better be sure to warn him, then. If you’ll excuse me--”

Watching Harry hurry away, Bill turned back to Hermione. “Well, if that’s all, I’d like to tuck Neville in now. He looks a bit tired.” 

Hermione crossed her arms. “Nothing too acrobatic, please.”

Neville blushed while Bill just smiled. “I’ll be sure Neville is on his back at all times.”

Shaking her head, Hermione turned away and smiled to herself. Dinner should be very interesting.

~

Harry’s breathing shifted and Severus held his breath, but then he settled again and, after muttering something, rolled over. When he was again lightly snoring, Severus resumed his stealthy trek out of his bedroom. 

Upon arriving back at Grimmauld after the successful vampire raid, Harry had made it clear that they were going to finish what they’d started earlier that evening. Of course, that had resulted in the two of them rapidly progressing from kissing to frotting to full-on sex. Several times. 

A smile crossed Severus’ lips. For all that he was young, Harry was a very inventive lover, introducing Severus to several things he’d never even considered. _It’s a shame that this relationship cannot actually work. No matter what he says, the public would never accept us as a couple._

Severus sighed. The idea of remaining in the wizarding world was appealing, but potentially disastrous. When this, whatever this was, with Harry ended, as it inevitably would, it would be even worse than when Lily had married that wastrel, Potter. His crush on Lily had been based on his fantasy of what could have been. Even after he’d acknowledged his attraction towards his own sex, Lily had been someone who he’d actually considered kissing. He could have had a life with her. But her son... Severus shook his head. Her son was far more dangerous. It would be all too easy to lose himself to Harry.

“And here I thought you were courageous,” a voice said from the darkened hallway. 

Severus jumped. “Weasley? What is it? Is something wrong with Longbottom?”

Bill stepped from the shadows. He was half-naked, clad only in low-slung jeans. “Nothing’s wrong with Neville,” he said. “He’s sleeping the sleep of the well shagged, the way I imagine Harry is.”

Flushing, Severus looked away. “That isn’t any of your business.” He tried to push past Weasley, but the man moved to stop him, using his muscled arms to pin Severus to the wall. “What in Merlin’s name do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, outraged.

Weasley spoke quietly. “I am preventing you from making one of the most serious errors of your life.”

“How dare you--?”

“I dare because Harry is my friend,” Weasley shot back. “I dare because ever since he and my sister broke up, all I’ve ever seen him do is work. When I saw him snogging you yesterday I thought he was mad, but you, for some reason I can’t fathom, make him happy, and I’ll be damned if I watch you break his heart.” With a final growl, Weasley let go and Severus could feel his shoulders aching from where the man had gripped them. “So stop being a bloody coward and go back in there.”

“You have no idea what you’re saying,” Severus blustered. “He doesn’t love me, he feels guilty for not having saved me at the end of the war.”

“That’s absolute rot,” Weasley scoffed. “You love him but you’re too cowardly to say so. At least have the decency to tell him you’re leaving instead of disappearing in the middle of the night.”

“What’s going on here?” Harry, looking more appealing than he had any right to, was standing there, wearing rumpled sleep pants. It was obvious he’d just pulled them on as the string wasn’t even tied. “Why are you arguing?”

Weasley smiled grimly. “I believe Snape has something to say to you,” he snapped, pushing past Harry and heading in the direction of Neville’s room. 

Severus watched Weasley leave, torn between wanting to strangle him and being grateful that at least he’d have one last look at Harry before attempting to disappear. Perhaps Australia would be the best choice, although, even there, he’d have to be careful as the British Ministry for Magic was on quite friendly terms with their Australian counterpart.

“Severus?” Harry seemed calm. Severus wondered how long that would last. 

“I was going to secure my things and leave,” he said without preamble. “Now that the creatures have been captured and Longbottom seems fine, I thought my presence here would be superfluous.”

To Severus’ surprise, Harry didn’t appear angry at that announcement. Instead, he simply crossed his arms and regarded Severus for a moment. “You’re going to leave without collecting your payment?” he asked. 

“My...payment?” Severus blinked. “I--”

“Yes. We worked out a bargain, remember?” Harry smiled sweetly and Severus narrowed his eyes in response. He didn’t trust that look for one moment for all that Harry was a Gryffindor.

“Remind me,” Severus said. 

Holding up a small, round object, Harry raised an eyebrow. “You wanted some private time with the Resurrection Stone. Unless you’ve changed your mind--”

“No.” Severus walked forward. “It had slipped my mind, but now I recall and yes, I would like an opportunity with it. Where--?”

“We’re close to my bedroom.” Harry shrugged. “That seems like the most logical place to me.” 

Severus nodded and walked back towards the room, Harry following. When they arrived, Harry held the Stone over Severus’ palm. “Turn it three times while thinking clearly about the person you’d like to speak with,” he instructed. “You must keep touching it or they’ll disappear.”

Nodding his understanding, Severus accepted the Hallow, trying not to shiver as Harry’s fingers brushed his palm. “Thank you,” he said. 

Harry didn’t say anything, and after a moment of staring into his suddenly unreadable eyes, Severus turned and opened the door, closing it behind him. Closing his eyes, he thought about the person he most wanted to talk to, and he turned the Stone three times in his hand. Upon completion, he opened his eyes and smiled. 

“What can I do for you, my boy?” 

Severus shook his head. Even in death the old man’s eyes bloody twinkled. “It’s good to see you, Headmaster,” he said. “I never got to say goodbye the last time.”

Albus smiled. “The possibility was high that you would be joining me on this side of the veil,” he replied gently. “Yet you somehow managed to survive.” His smiled widened. “And it appears you’ve found some measure of happiness! I am so pleased for you, Severus.”

Severus frowned. “I don’t know what you mean--”

“Why with Harry, of course,” Albus clarified. “True love is often a difficult thing to seek, yet it appears to have found you unawares. Congratulations!” 

“Albus, the boy is infatuated!” Severus lowered his voice, sure that Harry had his ear pressed to the door. “This cannot be anything other than a passing phase.”

Albus shook his head. “I have never known that young man to be prone to passing phases. He’s always followed through on things, even when the odds seem impossible. I suspect he’ll be even more determined should you prove recalcitrant.” 

“Ridiculous.” Severus held up his right hand, his left still tightly clutching the Stone. “I didn’t call you here to talk about Harr--about Potter. I wanted to tell you how much I regretted having to kill you in that manner--”

“Severus.” Albus was smiling again. “I _told_ you to do it, my boy. You were following my instructions.” 

“I know, but perhaps there was a way I could have--”

“There was no other way and you know it.” Albus lowered his head and peered at him over ghostly glasses. “We never could speak freely in the Headmaster’s office when you were appointed, but surely you knew my silence whenever you were there was to preserve your cover?”

Severus exhaled. “I’d hoped that to be the case,” he said. “Yet I wanted to be sure, and when the opportunity came up to talk with you, I took it.” 

Albus spread his arm. “Severus, if this carries any weight, I am grateful for all you did for the war effort and for me. I was going to die a horrid and painful death as you well know, and you saved me from that.” Those blue eyes began twinkling again and Severus crossed his arms. 

“What are you plotting, old man?” he asked, suspicious. 

“You can consider all debts absolved if you live a long and happy life,” Albus said softly. “Now, go out there and let that man know he’s loved. If you do, I imagine he’ll reassure you of the same.”

Severus opened his mouth to argue but then Albus was gone. Looking down at his palm, he realised he’d almost dropped the Stone and in letting it go for a moment, Albus had left. He sighed. “Come in, Harry, I know you’re listening.”

Harry walked in a moment later. “I thought you’ll call up my mum, actually,” he said. 

“Idiot.” Severus muttered. “She was my best, well, my only friend as a child, but the only thing we have in common now is you.” He shook his head. “I shudder to think what she would say if she knew about us.”

“I like to think that she’d be happy for us; Dad, too.” Harry walked closer. “I have no plans to ask them, though. There comes a point when you have to live your life and not worry about dead people.” He smiled and held out his hand. Severus dropped the Stone into it. “So now what?” he asked.

Severus pondered this. “I had planned to return to Manchester,” he replied after a moment. “Resume my research.” 

Harry placed a hand on his arm, and Severus could feel the warmth coming from it spreading through him. He almost imagined he could feel his heart thawing. “Stay,” Harry said. “You are needed here.”

“I am a Death Eater, or have you forgotten?” Severus swallowed as he felt his defences crumbling under the weight of Harry’s steady regard. “In case you have forgotten, I made your life miserable in school, I--”

“I’ve forgotten nothing, Severus.” Harry was smiling. “I remember how many times you saved my life, how many times you helped me while risking yourself...” his voice dropped to a purr, “...and I also remember how good you felt inside me earlier tonight.” 

Severus flushed and Harry laughed softly. “Dumbledore was right, you know. I am not going anywhere, and lest _you_ forget, I’m an Auror. I have the resources of the Ministry should I need to track you down again. And now that I have you, I’m not letting you go.”

“So I am yet again slave to a new master?” Severus could feel himself accepting this as the new reality, and, frighteningly enough, he didn’t mind. “What have I done to deserve this?” he asked dryly. 

Harry shrugged. “You’re just lucky, I guess. Now, can we please go back to bed? I’m cold.”

“And I suppose it’s my job to warm you up?” Severus allowed Harry to undress him, sliding his hands under the waistband of Harry’s sleep pants that had been tempting him for several minutes. 

“Mm, or I can warm _you_ up,” Harry murmured, sliding Severus’ shirt off his shoulders. “Either way is fine, as long as it involves me and you and that bed.” 

“Stubborn brat.” 

“You have no idea,” Harry chuckled as they slid into bed together and he wrapped himself around Severus. “My alternate plan was get Neville to pull the sword of Gryffindor out of the Hat again and come after you.”

“Dear God,” Severus muttered, gasping a moment later as Harry’s tongue encircled his nipple. His hands clenched in Harry’s soft, unruly hair. “How many ancient artefacts are you planning to use on me?”

“As many as I need,” Harry replied, his mouth now hovering over Severus’ prick. 

_And that, I suppose,_ Severus thought, just before all coherent thought left, _is that_. He wouldn’t miss Manchester one bit.

~

Neville arched his back in a desperate attempt to pull Bill deeper somehow. Guttural moans were falling from his lips as Bill stroked his prostate with his cock. “Oh, oh, oh, oh--”

“God, you’re incredible,” Bill gasped, speeding up. 

Three more thrusts and he was coming inside Neville, whose toes, currently behind Bill’s ears, curled hard. He came only a moment later, spilling his seed onto his and Bill’s joined stomachs before he dragged Bill’s head down for a snog.

Their lips clung for a moment before Bill, panting, lifted his head. “I don’t think...that your stamina...has suffered...at all,” he said, shifting and gently easing Neville’s legs off his shoulder.

“Like I said before,” Neville whispered, “you’re pretty inspiring.”

“What I am is fortunate,” Bill replied, turning Neville and tucking him against his body. 

When the tingle of a gentle Cleaning Spell washed over him, Neville sighed contentedly and shut his eyes. “So you think Snape stayed?” he asked, resuming the topic they had been discussing before their latest bout of sex.

Bill nuzzled the skin behind Neville’s ear. “I think so. I don’t think Harry was about to let him go without a fight.”

“Good.” 

He was almost asleep when Neville heard a loud moan. His eyes popped open. “Wow, I guess Harry really did win,” he said, a smiled curving his lips. “Good for him.”

“Oh God!” Bill groaned. “You mean we have to hear them having sex now?” He rolled onto his back and Neville, still grinning, followed so that he was lying on his side facing Bill.

Neville patted his shoulder, his fingers drifting until he was smoothing the skin on Bill’s hip. “Apparently they have a lot of time to make up for,” he said. 

“Is it so much to ask for them to put up Silencing Spells?” Bill muttered, burying his face in Neville’s neck. 

“Um, do you think they heard us?” Neville asked. 

Bill raised his head, a look of horror on his face. “Shit, since we’re hearing them, I suppose it’s likely they did hear us.” He flopped back onto his pillow. “This would be Snape’s idea of revenge.” 

They were both silent for a moment as they listened to Harry and Snape go at it. With a muttered incantation, Bill put up a Silencing Spell and the sounds of not-so-distant lovemaking faded away. 

Neville giggled, laying his head next to Bill’s on the pillow. “Maybe we should find our own place,” he suggested. “That way we can all be as loud as we want.” 

He could feel Bill grin against his cheek. “Brilliant idea. How do you feel about Egypt?” Bill asked. 

“I’ve never been,” Neville said. “Gran’s always telling me I should see the world; maybe she’s right.”

Bill nodded. “Mothers and grandmothers are generally quite wise,” he agreed, reaching over and pushing a curl back behind Neville’s ear. “I’ll look into the paperwork tomorrow. I think the dig will be glad to have me back, and a skilled Herbologist is always welcome.” He kissed Neville. “Mum’ll be happy I’m not alone anymore. Almost as happy as I am.”

Neville sighed contentedly as Bill’s fingers stroked over where his now healed vampire wounds had been located. For all the pain he’d endured, he couldn’t help but think that perhaps it had been a good thing he’d been captured and bitten by the vampire. It’d resulted in him being captured and bitten by love, and that was one curse he never wanted lifted.

~

Fin


End file.
